


An Arc of Spraying Blood

by Drengade



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), RWBY
Genre: Blood, F/M, Grimm aren't beasts, It'll be a while before Beacon, Jaune's like eight, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Are Hard, Training, We'll get there though, technically, we'll get to that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 51,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23339134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drengade/pseuds/Drengade
Summary: Jaune wanted to be a Huntsman.He wanted to be a Hero.He didn't understand what that meant.To an eight year old Jaune Arc, to be a Hero, all you needed was Aura. Nothing else mattered.When given a chance to train with a real Huntsman, real training, not that stuff his father kept trying to distract him with, surely he would be able to become a Hero!But real training was not easy.Jaune would quickly find that strength came with hard effort, and even with strength, whether you would be a Hero or a Beast was all up in the air.Maybe instead of a Hero, or even a Huntsman, Jaune was destined to be aHunter.And we all know Hunters will be needed, for monsters more terrible than Grimm lie on the horizon, and in a walled off land, far to the north, a horrific consciousness is stirring in unsettling motions.Whether Jaune wants it or not, he must rise to face the challenge; after all:A Hunter Must Hunt
Relationships: Jaune Arc/Winter Schnee, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 57
Kudos: 90





	1. Gran Arbor 1: A Decision from a Broken Watch.

Jaune wasn't exactly in the best of moods.

Once again he was sat on the veranda of his cabin glaring at his sisters on the training field. It wasn't fair! He was eight! He was a big boy now. Why wasn't he allowed to join in?

Jaune lived in the town of Gran Arbor, situated a few miles inland of a port village, Crooked Shores, on the southern coast of Vale. Gran Arbor was the largest settlement for miles. The town was a far greater size than most settlements out in the Grimmwilds, but it was ill protected by natural barriers. It wasn't a dwelling you'd expect to last long in the hostile environments of Remnant, but last it did. Not due particularly to the defences, but due to the inhabitants.

Patriarch Aurum Arc was the defacto leader of the town, he was a big man, with a big voice, a big personality and a big appetite, but his size wasn’t purposeless, he was strong. Immensely so. His strength had kept Gran Arbor safe for decades, as had his father, and his father before him. Aurum stood an imposingly muscled figure, he pushed six and a half feet tall and was built like a bear, his arms, famously, had been known to tear giant Deathstalkers apart, plate by bony plate. Thick wiry bushes of golden hair, untouched by greying or balding, covered most of his body, including mats on the backs of his forearms that had been known to stop blades in their tracks even without the protection of Aura. Aurum didn't use a weapon in combat, he was his weapon. A few Huntsmen had laughed at him for this, but after a video began to circulate Huntsman forums of Aurum tearing apart a Grimm horde of Goliaths, Taurochs, Ravenmockers and Nemeans that was at least two hundred strong and included alphas, majors and even a few elders singlehandedly, even catching a charging elder Taurochs by the horns and tearing it's head from its shoulders to beat an Alpha Nemean to death, all with his bare hands, those laughing voices quickly faded.

Another thing about Aurum that was big was his reproductive capacity. It had to be, after all, between tearing Grimm to shreds and governing a rowdy town populated by several thousand of Remnant's equivalent of Floridians, he had still been able to produce seven daughters and a son.

Many of his daughters had joined him and a posse of particularly deranged inhabitants, most of which enjoyed shooting away the tropical storms that often battered the coast in summer, in defending their hometown. This is not to say all did though, a few of Aurum’s daughters refused this way of life. The few that did generally took after their mother more than their father, Juniper Arc nee Cadience was, for lack of a better word, willowy. When stood beside Aurum she actually, amazingly, just topped him in height, but she was thin as a rake and not in any way a Huntress. Unfortunately, birthing and raising eight children from a man like Aurum had taken their toll on Juniper, and she spent most of her days in bed. She wasn't ill or hurt in any way really, but she was mentally drained and often just needed rest.

Neither Aurum nor any of his daughters were officially huntresses, but they were well able to protect the population of their town and were paid in goods and the local scrip by the farmers. Lien had little worth out here.

Many visitors questioned why the family were so attached to this place out in the middle of nowhere, of Aurum or his daughters wanted to, they could make a name themselves many more hospitable places. However, if asked, Aurum would just ignore the question, or brusquely deflect it. Despite this, later that day he could always be found flicking through old and weathered photo albums. Whenever he did, in a rare show of sorrow, his eyes would begin to water.

As well as Aurum's personal reasons, there was another reason behind the maintenance of Gran Arbor. On a hill a few miles away, an old ruin perched brooding over the valley below. A weathered castle, worn and collapsing, yet three times the size of Beacon. The ruin was all that remained of the original settlement of Gran Arbor, obliterated in one of the bloodiest sieges of the Great War. The residents of the current town were the descendants of those who survived the siege, which was broken by a madman's charge as every surviving resident leapt from the walls of the city into the sieging army below. That insane spirit had well carried on into the blood of the Arborians. They had fought for their land against overwhelming odds and they would do it again in a heartbeat, like a ferocious Wolverine over the corpse of a deer. Arborian farmers didn't see a Grimm and call the guards or the Huntsmen, they'd see a Grimm, grab a pitchfork and ram that fork so far down the Grimm’s gullet, that the tines would stick out it's posterior. On several marked occasions word would get to Aurum of a pack of Grimm attacking, and by the time he'd get there the farmers would be carving up the remains of the pack and loading steaks on the barbeque.

Jaune didn't care much for Gran Arbor's history though, things like that were far from an eight year old’s mind. What he cared about was being stuck not allowed to train like his sisters. It wasn't like Aurum had forbidden Jaune to train, but that he didn't let him train in the same way as his sisters and just didn't have the time to train him himself. Aurum would be extremely happy if his son carried on the Arc mantle, but he was held back by his beliefs.

Aurum, and most Arborians firmly believed in an old theory about aura, unproven even now. There are two basic ways to unlock Aura, someone can unlock it for you by using theirs to shock yours into waking up, or you can unlock it naturally, generally via stress and trauma. The theory posited that those who unlocked their aura themselves had far greater growth than those who took the easy route of having it unlocked.

Due to this, Aurum had not unlocked any of his children's auras. They were permitted to train using it once they unlocked it themselves.

Jaune had yet to unlock his aura, his sisters had all done it subconsciously, but not him. However, to Jaune, training without aura seemed pointless, Dust, even the _farmers_ had Aura. He had pestered Aurum in the short times he wasn't busy for Aurum to unlock his, but had blown off Aurum's other training suggestions, honestly believing that Aurum was just trying to stop him from training.

Thus he was pouting on his porch.

Recently Aurum had been spending even less time with his children, Gran Arbor’s crops hadn't been doing that well the last few years and it was getting harder to hold the citizen's already volatile tempers in check. The girls were fine with this, more time without dad watching, but Jaune felt differently.

Jaune felt abandoned.

All of his sisters who still lived in the town were off having fun learning how to fight without him, his father was never around... What else could he think?

Aurum had been forced by fraying tempers of the citizens, and the resulting brawls and general negativity, to call in official Huntsmen to bolster defences, even Arborian farmers deal with full-blown hordes. Unfortunately, supplying these Huntsmen was digging even further into the town's resources. The lessened food supply was causing some rather significant levels of anger and after six hordes in twelve days, Aurum's worries about drawing in Grimm seemed founded.

At least the influx of warriors had one benefit, Jaune loved talking to these Huntsmen, they were new! And they were around even when his father wasn’t. The stories he'd heard...

Speaking of these Huntsmen, as Jaune looked up from poking the dusty ground with a stick, he spotted one entering the Arc family area of the city from his place on the porch. Normally this would mean they had business with Aurum, but Jaune knew this not to be the case. This particular huntsman was called Phos Argentum, and Jaune had grown quite attached to him over the past few months. 

Phos spun stories Jaune wasn't sure were true or false, but he didn't care. They were interesting! Plus, Phos had dropped hints that he would be fine with teaching him to fight. Jaune was slightly wary, he wasn't an idiot, stranger danger and all that, but Phos was trusted by the other Huntsmen, he seemed to have garnered a bit of a reputation. Phos 'Crackling Silver’ Argentum.  
He cut a strong figure, his tall wiry body enabled him to loom over most people including, astonishingly, Aurum. His weathered face was covered in patchy silver stubble and was shadowed by a faded and frayed top hat. Jaune had never been able to tell the colour of his eyes, as they were hidden behind a small pair of dark spectacles permanently perched on the bridge of his nose. He wore a distinctive long dark grey coat crafted from a strange patchwork of leather and cloth, thickly stitched with fire dust, the coat and hat were recognisable enough, but when you have a black axe with a blade the size of a dustbin lid on your back you draw attention.

Jaune ran up to Phos and waved up at him. The man waved back.

“Hello kid, bored?”

Jaune looked down.

“Like always.”

Phos seemed to think for a moment, looking up and to the left. He pulled out an ornate pocket watch from his jacket and opened it, looking at the back of the cover, not the face.

“Tell you what kid, come with me.”

He led Jaune round to a dusty area out of sight of the boy’s sisters and swung his axe off his back, lengthening the haft and ramming the blade twenty centimetres into the hard packed dirt.

Ignited Ashes was closest to what would be known in Vacuo as a Kleisthen, or a Grand War Axe, though it was different enough that you couldn't really call it one. The Kleisthen was an old type of weapon, little seen since the military shift towards firearms. Most Huntsmen saw it as too bulky and unwieldy, with some exceptions. The thing was monstrously heavy, the blade alone being eighty kilograms of wrought metal. The weapon featured little transformation, the handle lengthening to fit a two handed grip was all it possessed.

In addition, Phos favoured a separate firearm, again big and heavy. More a handcannon than a pistol, Embers Burst fired a collection of buckshot and shrapnel, designed more to make the opponent flinch and create openings than deal actual damage, though that's not to say being hit by a quarter kilogram of shredded metal would be painless. Single shots from firearms frequently didn't phase Grimm, and criminals often had aura, to seriously disrupt an opponent you had to hit them with some significant force.

Phos relied on moving fast to the enemy and landing heavy, but relatively slow, hits. Of which, generally, one landing was enough to stun his opponent. Phos’ semblance of being able to disappear into a burst of flames and reappear a short distance away helped with this.

“Try to pick it up Jaune.”

Jaune looked at Phos slightly confused, it probably weighed more than him! Even so, he took hold of the long handle and tried to bear the weight of the weapon. The point at the head of the axe was keeping it embedded in the ground. Jaune turned so his back was to the shaft and tried to lever it up that way. He was straining and red in the face, but eventually the heavy thing rested on his bowed back. As soon as the weight actually rested on him his legs began to shake as sweat ran down his nose.

Phos smiled and picked up Ignited Ashes off Jaune's back with one hand. Jaune instantly sat back on the dirt, panting.

“Good job Squirt.”

Phos ruffled Jaune's hair as his eyes set, he'd made his decision.

Aurum knew his stuff. He knew how to run his town godammit, he wasn't exactly pleased with Huntsmen always telling him that what he was doing was wrong in some way. Inefficient, costly, dangerous, he didn't care. He did what needed to be done, so he tended to get rather standoffish if approached by a Huntsman he hadn't summoned himself.

“What is it Argentum?”

He especially wasn't very pleased when a Huntsmen thought they could tell him what to do just because they were official Huntsmen and he was not. As a Rank A Rogue Huntsman at the peak of A rank, he was considered more qualified than most official Huntsmen.

“Aurum, let me train your son.”

That was not what Aurum had been expecting. To be fair, Argentum was generally fairly polite, for a Huntsman, but Aurum struggled to tell whether this was an insult or not.

“Why.”

Aurum didn't voice that as a question, it was a demand. 

“Plainly speaking Aurum, I like the kid. He's dedicated, at least to the goal, of not the method, he's interested and, if I may be frank, he certainly inherited more from his mother than he did you. Most of your daughters inherited your musculature, even if not your bulk. Jaune isn't muscle, he's wire. He reminds me of myself when I was his age that way.”

It certainly didn't seem like an insult... And though Argentum’s reputation preceded him, Aurum wasn’t sure. He was a father after all, and this was his only son.

“How would you train him?”

This was the sticking point. If at any point Argentum said 'I’d unlock his aura’, he was going to receive a flat no.

“First off, I’d need to get him in shape. Right now he's just a normal kid, I’d need to get him strong enough to survive in the wilderness first, then lessons for how to do that. Shelter, food, tracking.

Only once he can handle himself in the wilderness and is appropriately fit would I begin teaching him combat and smithing. I trust enough in my abilities that I would be able to protect him till then, provided nothing catastrophic happens, and if push comes to shove I have an emergency beacon to the Rogues association at all times.

Once he is proficient enough with hand to hand and dodging, I'll have him forge his own weapon. Then comes training with that to become proficient enough. Once he's succeeded there I'll let him fight the weaker Grimm from the Vale area under controlled conditions, the Class 1 Grimm, Beowolves and Creeps. Then I'll move him up to Class 2, Nevermores, Ursai, Boarbatusks, Alpha Beowolves and Steeplejacks, before finally Class 3. Deathstalkers, King Taijitu, Ursa Majors, Elder Beowolves, Scuttlebacks and Taurochs. Once he can at least take out a solitary one of each Valean Class 3 Grimm, he can apply for membership to the Rogues Association. 

From there I'll guide him through his first few missions as a Rank G before telling him to get up to the Rank E proficiency test alone. Of course, I'll be keeping an eye on him, I have contacts in several Association branches, but he needs to be independent. Throughout this time, I will still be meeting up with him to check how things are going and, more importantly, improve his combat against other people, because till that point I'm not going to focus much on bandits.

After he achieves Rank E I will be allowing him to accompany me on my proper missions, Rank A+, A and B stuff, providing I don't think the danger is too great, to get him accustomed to what it'll be like. I'll have to be confident in his ability to defend himself though.

I'll then expect him to get to rank D, preferably C before he can enroll in Beacon. I’d say nine years apprenticeship to an active Hunter, Rank C in the Rogues association and accompanying several Rank B and above jobs would be more than enough achievement to enroll without combat school backing. Even better if he's made a reputation for himself.”

Aurum was somewhat impressed, but the sticking point hadn't been addressed.

“Aura?”

Phos smiled.

“Aurum, my aura didn't unlock until I was already attending Beacon and was flung off a cliff to what would have been my death. I don't intend to unlock his aura for him, you and I agree on that.”

Aurum smiled.

“Providing you send me regular updates, and visit at least twice a year, I will let you train him. But you asked to do it, and I will not be paying you.”

Argentum clasped Aurum’s hand in a firm handshake.

“Exactly what I expected. Don't worry, I was my masters apprentice, and I needed to train an apprentice eventually. Jaune will learn techniques my sect have kept hidden in a line of disciples going back hundreds of years. He will become a successful Hunter, I guarantee it.”

**\--------------- Hunter Files ---------------**

_Aurum 'Golden Bear’ Arc_

Aurum is a famous figure throughout Vale, his exploits and disdain for official Huntsmen have given him quite the reputation.

Thirty nine years old, and suffering from a long healed injury to his left leg that have him a pronounced limp and almost crippled him, he is still considered one of the most physically powerful individuals on Remnant. Perfectly capable of laying waste to massive swathes of the most powerful Grimm around. Many stories have been told about his exploits, and while many are well substantiated, others, such as a widely circulated story about a three day wrestling match with an Elder Beringel weighing upwards of two tons, are believed to be more likely to be fabrications.

Much like the other Arborians, Aurum has developed a fondness for consuming slain Grimm. The practice is considered foul by some and heretical by others, but the Arborians merely think of it as another way of spitting in the Grimm's faces. A sort of “You try to eat us? Well, we’ll eat you!” mentality.

Aurum's first child was born when he was twenty, and he had a child every one or two years after this until the birth of his eighth child, Jaune, who was born weak and sickly after a particularly troubled pregnancy and birth. Aurum's tenure as Gran Arbor's defacto mayor has lasted since his father died at the age of forty three, when Aurum was twenty two. An ancestor of Aurum once ruled the former settlement of Gran Arbor in it’s feudal days, and the present day citizens seem quite content to effectively carry on the feudal system, even if they are forbidden from calling it as such.

Aurum's familial relationships are not the strongest, he is wracked with guilt over the condition of his wife even though, medically, there is nothing wrong with her. His duties keep him at a distance from his children, and the large number of them diminish the time he can spend with each. Despite this he honestly tries his best, but even a man as superhuman as 'The Golden Bear of The Arborians' cannot do everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloodborne fans have possibly recognised Phos' weapons from Bloodborne, yes he is using the Hunter's Axe and Blunderbuss. His outfit is also a modified version of the Hunter Garb Set B with the top hat.
> 
> Jaune's weapons are currently to be decided, and will be chosen via poll. They're currently a few chapters off, at least are planned to be. Jaune is supposed to be a fast character, so slow and heavy weapons are not being considered, neither are those that are extremely outlandish (looking at you Kos Parasite), same with firearms. The shortlist that can be voted on is:
> 
> • The Beasthunter Saif  
> • The Beastcutter (I just like it too much)  
> • The Blades of Mercy  
> • The Burial Blade  
> • The Chikage  
> • The Rakuyo  
> • The Reiterpallasch  
> • The Threaded Cane
> 
> For firearms there are fewer:
> 
> • The Hunter Pistol  
> • The Evelyn  
> • The Repeating Pistol (if it's very popular)
> 
> People can also vote on his outfit if they want, but most Bloodborne outfits are kinda ridiculous in certain ways, so they'll be dumbed down, and finally, people can vote on the main pairing! I have no idea, so go wild. Fair point, I will be ignoring the easy canon option of Pyrrha here. By the time he hits Beacon, this Jaune will be **very** different from canon.


	2. Gran Arbor 2: A Departure Born of Ignorance

“Jaune!”

The call wasn’t really unexpected. Jaune had been watching Phos as he walked across the compound. Little else to do.

“Yes Phos?”

The older man sat beside Jaune on the edge of the veranda, the sun was beginning to set, and the dusty ground was tinted red. 

“I've been talking to your father.”

Oh, here it was again. Jaune had finally thought that he had an ally. A Huntsman ally. But it seemed Phos was just like the others. He too had decided to bow to Jaune's father and had come to try and convince him not to become a Huntsman. Aura was what mattered, not running around a dusty field!

“He's agreed to let me take you as an apprentice and train you.”

Jaune's annoyance did a full one-eighty, did that mean- was he finally going to get his Aura unlocked?!

“So does that mean?...”

“I'll be teaching you how to fight, eventually, yes.”

Jaune frowned.

“What do you mean eventually?”

Phos sighed.

“Follow me.”

Phos walked over to another cabin. The Arc compound within Gran Arbor consisted of nine separate wooden cabins. There was the main house, Aurum and Juniper's personal cabin, and cabins for each of their children. Of course several, such as Saphron's, were unoccupied or only occasionally occupied, as the inhabitant no longer lived permanently in Gran Arbor, and the twins shared a cabin.

Phos knocked on the door.

“Hello? Miss Xantha? Could you come out here for a bit please?”

Xantha was the youngest of Jaune's sisters, she was only a year older than him and was a total tomboy. When she stuck her head round the door this became extremely obvious, her short blond hair was unkempt and there was at least one stick in it, a large purple bruise was blossoming around her eye and her grin was missing a few teeth.

“Hey, yeah, gonna have to say no... Kinda in a situation here...”

A frantic squeaking sounded from behind Xantha and she quickly ducked back behind the door.

“No Sienna! Back into the bedroom!”

She stuck her head out again.

“Yeah, kinda busy...”

Phos sighed.

“Your father won't be happy if you’re trying to keep squirrels in your cabin again.”

This wouldn't be the first time Xantha had brought animals home, recently she seemed to have become fascinated by squirrels, and Phos had seen the fallout from her last two attempts.

“Nooooo... I’m nooooot...”

She looked a bit sheepish.

“I don't really care whether you are or aren't, but unless you want me telling your dad, you'll help me.”

Xantha looked down.

“Fine... Gimme a sec.”

She popped back into the cabin, there was a frantic tumble of movement as furniture toppled and things fell to to floor.

“Gotcha! Now, now, Sienna, stay in the bedroom!”

Quickly Xantha excited the cabin, now featuring several parallel lines of claw marks across her right cheek.

Phos waved her and Jaune to follow.

“You know, I don't care whether you're raising squirrels, but you'd better not be mistreating them.”

Xantha looked affronted.

“No way! Sienna may be a bit mischievous and she may cause trouble, but she always tells me she's having fun! I would never hurt her!”

The older man led the two children to one of the Arc areas dusty arenas, he set them up on either side.

“Right. Jaune, Xantha? No Aura. Fight.”

Jaune's face flashed into a momentary expression of shock, before a small fist wiped the expression away, Jaune fell to the ground, catching himself on his hands and throwing his body around behind Xantha, trying to entangle her legs with his. Instead, Xantha jumped, performing a delicate flip and twist to land on her feet further away. Jaune climbed back to standing, barely wincing at the grazes on his palms, before charging at his sister.

Xantha easily sidestepped Jaune’s flailing charge and delivered a kick to the back of his knee that almost sent him sprawling again, he managed to recover and wheeled around with a left hook towards Xantha, only to swing his own face into her right jab. Jaune stumbled back, blood streaming from his nose. Xantha was momentarily smug, before a bleeding Jaune barrelled headfirst into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her and propelling her backwards. Jaune grabbed her around the waist and attempted to push her to the ground. Instead, Xantha slammed her left foot off the ground and spun them around.

Jaune's back impacted the hard dirt with a thud, his head cracking off the arena floor that was only just soft enough to prevent serious injury. Xantha quickly got her knees either side of his torso, immobilised his arms and threatened his already bloodied noise with a head-butt.

“And that’s the match.”

Xantha slowly got off Jaune, leaving him lying on the ground.

“Now so you see Jaune? Xantha didn't use any Aura there at all, and yet she still beat you. Can you tell me why?”

Jaune set his face in a petulant scowl.

“Of course she used Aura, i-“

Phos' face turned angry.

“Don't you dare. Don't you dare try and say that she only won because she cheated. You're better than that Jaune. Even if you believe you could beat her without Aura...”

Phos strode across the ring in two strides and placed one large leather boot on Jaune's chest, letting a small amount of his weight rest on the child's torso.

“Do you believe you could beat me without Aura?”

Jaune looked away.

“No...”

“And why is that Jaune?”

“Because you’re an adult.”

Phos looked to the side.

“Yes, I suppose that does skew it somewhat. Instead, do you think your mother could beat your father without Aura?”

“No...”

Phos smiled.

“So something else must be affecting the results right? Something else lets your father win. What do you think that is Jaune?”

“He's stronger, and he's fought a lot.”

“Good. And why do you think your father is stronger than your mother and has been able to fight a lot?”

Jaune looked dead at Phos, and with no doubt in his eyes, absolutely believing it to be true, said:

“Because he has Aura.”

“Oh for the Love of Kos...”

Phos put his hand to his face and sighed.

“Thank you Xantha. You may go back to wrangling that squirrel of yours if you want.”

Phos grabbed Jaune by the collar and pulled him to his feet before looking over his wounds. The nose wasn’t broken, just bashed, it would heal on its own, probably overnight if the other Arborians were anything to go by. The scrapes on the palms were fine, Phos took out a canteen of water and quickly washed out the dirt.

“Whatever you choose to think of it, you are now officially my Apprentice, the paperwork has been filed with the Rogues Association, and Vale's Government. From this point on, I have almost as much say over you as your parents, and your father has given me full control. Essentially Jaune, I own you. And I will make you a Good Hunter, even if I have to almost kill you in the process.”

Phos’ control over Jaune wasn’t as total as he was making out really... Aurum or Juniper could immediately pull the plug on the apprenticeship whenever they wanted, and he still had to (technically) abide by the safety and child protection laws of Vale. At least within bowshot of a settlement. Phos proceeded to bring out another canteen, this time of cheap, strong alcohol, which he poured over the grazes, Jaune recoiled with a hiss, but Phos held his wrists still while the burning liquid disinfected the wounds. Arborian Clearglade was only produced in the town, and was illegal to sell anywhere outside of the nearby region, mostly because, as an 75% alcohol, it exceeded the limit of alcohol licenced for sale in the rest of Vale by 15%. Phos had two more canteens in his traveling bags, and he planned to stock up on several more.

He was sure he would need it.

“Tomorrow Jaune, we will be leaving Gran Arbor, and heading very deep into the Tourmaline Woods. While in the woods I expect you to reach a high enough degree of physical fitness that I can expect you not to die the instant I turn my back. The Tourmaline Woods are dangerous Jaune, Dangerous with a capital D. They fill most of the eastern area of the continent, and are awash with hundreds of Grimm. A normal person doesn't belong there, they cannot survive there. It's a land of the abnormal, and you must become abnormal to belong.”

While Jaune was in some ways pleased he would be leaving Gran Arbor to train, in other ways he was incredibly annoyed. It seemed that all that would be happening is that he would be trading one place where people tried to distract him from what really mattered with pointless work, for another place where the same happened. Except this one would be full of dangerous Grimm.

Fun.

“But that's tomorrow, Jaune. Tonight, your mother has decided to have a special meal to celebrate sending you off. Think of it as your family wishing you well in your apprenticeship. I will tell you now, you will hate being my Apprentice at times. I will work you hard, and at times you will want to kill me. Trust me, I went through the same thing when I was an apprentice, but I can tell you this; by the time your apprenticeship with me is finished, so long as you put in the effort and do as I say, I guarantee that almost no-one your age will be your equal.”

At least the meal was good. His mother had pulled out all the stops and a massive pork roast filled the table. It was accompanied by a vast array of other traditional Arborian dishes, many of which featured grimmflesh in some way. Though Grimm rapidly decomposed into a black mess it was possible to eat them while they were fresh or had been preserved by freezing or salting, and given the sheer number of Grimm that died assaulting Gran Arbor, it was only natural they were used.

It hadn’t really sunk in to Jaune that he was _leaving_. His sisters, for once, were behaving. Well... Mostly. Xantha was still being a bit rambunctious, and was kicking him under the table occasionally. The eldest, Melina, was a woman of few words, nineteen years old she barely interacted with Jaune and gave only a stiff nod of approval at the path Jaune was taking. Melina was a major leader of the town watch, and as a result spent most of her time on the outer walls. Much like Aurum, she was mostly a fist fighter, though she also used a sniper rifle for wall defence.

The twins, Aurelia and Mellyn, were seventeen and frequently not around either, they, like Aurum were registered Rogues, and had been repeatedly taking missions as they had been preparing to apply to a Huntsman academy. They had been turned down by Beacon and Haven, and hadn't even attempted Atlas, but had been instantly accepted by Shade. It was only by luck that they were in the town for the party. The twins were almost like grown up Xanthas, though they had reined in their more hyperactive tendencies somewhat. Their praise of Jaune for his 'decision’ and particularly his choice of teacher had been loud and resulted in them receiving some scolding from their mother for their inappropriate comments about Phos.

The fifteen-year-old Verdell was the only one of Jaune’s siblings that had inherited their mother’s green hair, and she was much like her mother. She was thin, fairly weak, and more traditionally 'girly’ than most of the other sisters. That's not to say she was helpless, despite her lack of physical strength, she was incredibly accurate with a firearm, and though she had no interest in becoming a huntress, rogue or official, she was perfectly willing and able to defend her home. However she much preferred the sort of tasks expected to maintain a household. To be honest, out in the sticks as Gran Arbor was, there weren't all that many jobs around outside of guard, farmer, smith and brewer. The town was famous for all four, but many people of both genders instead ran bunkhouses, or even just maintained their house instead.

Saphron was thirteen and was not around right now, she had refused training for combat and instead was attending a normal boarding school in the city of Vale. It was the middle of termtime so she couldn't exactly leave, she'd talked for a little while over her scroll, but had to get back to club activities fairly quickly.

Finally, eleven-year-old Tawn was the third youngest and spent the evening almost in tears, Tawn was incredibly attached to her siblings and had cried all night when Saphron left. Tawn didn't get on all that well with Xantha, the overactive rambunctious nature of the youngest daughter clashed with Tawn’s more reserved attitude. Tawn was also training to become a rogue too, which didn't help her relationship with Xantha either. With Saphron and Verdell not training, and Melina and the twins too old to train with, Tawn was stuck practicing with Xantha and well... The rivalry became less than friendly at times. Tawn had latched onto Jaune since Saphron left and now that he was leaving too... She was in a bad way.

The meal lasted for a long time, but eventually the food was spent and the younger children were nodding off. Juniper led the kids off to bed and Aurum shooed the elder daughters off to their cabins. Phos hadn't attended the meal, but Aurum called him in after everyone else had gone.

“Treat him right, you hear me? If I hear he's died on your watch there is no force in creation that will keep me from pummeling you into the ground.”

Phos just smiled.

“I have as much resting on this as you. You have your bloodline to consider, I have my Order.”

Aurum admittedly was slightly more warmed to Phos now, between their earlier agreement and the meal he had requested Phos' details from the Rogues Association, and what he had seen had assuaged some fears. Thirty-two years old, member of the association for twenty-four years, with more than 3500 jobs under his belt. His passage through Beacon took him off the standard association ranking, but he was treated as a high A rank, much like Aurum himself, and he had been a newly inaugurated C rank at Beacon initiation. No major issues, bar a few Aurum didn't consider issues and also shared, namely; overenthusiasm and ruthlessness. Vast majority of performance reviews from job givers were positive, some glowing. There were of course several negative reviews, expected due to the number of completed jobs. The only very negative ones were a few from the town of Grey Crags over in the Valean mountains, but those were in his early years before he learned the lesson all Huntsmen and Rogues learned, that pretty much everyone in Grey Crags were utter arseholes and you should never do jobs for them. They tried any excuse not to pay you and maybe even try and fine you.

“Jaune had always wanted to become a Huntsman. Pops just kept telling him old stories, and he became obsessed. The problem was, Pops’ stories were always about the victories. Never the hard work behind them. The kid got it engrained in his head that training wasn’t needed. That is something you will need to wipe out, and Brothers know I've tried. You should be able to appeal to his desire for becoming a Huntsman for a lot of things, but you will run into some problems. Finally, I suggest the two of you leave without a big goodbye. Tawn adores her brother and Verdell dotes on him, even Xantha has a serious soft spot... It will be hard to pry them off him.”

“I have a plan for that. I'll scroll call you once a month for the first year, but I plan to keep Jaune out in the wilds until he realizes he can't just rely on aura. I don't know how long that'll take, so the first visit back home may be postponed a month or two. If I haven't managed to snap him out of it by a year, I may just have to take him as a lost cause.”

A periodic rise and fall slowly brought Jaune out of his sleep. It took him a groggy minute or so to realise that this was not his bed. Why was there wind in his face and- his eyes shot open.

“Where am I!?”

“Hey kid, you’re awake.”

Jaune was slung on Phos’ back, Ignited Ashes propped below his rear end for support. Phos was loping through an ancient woodland. Trees taller than Gran Arbor’s relay CCT building towered around them. The blue tinted green of the leaves cast dappled shadows across the forest floor. Jaune was given little chance to marvel though as, for one, he'd woken up in the middle of the dangerous Tourmaline Woods in his pajamas, strapped to someone’s back, and for another, Phos’ speed prevented him from seeing anything. Trees, despite trunks as thick as buildings, were blurring past in seconds as Phos practically flew through the undergrowth, leaping streams and scaling outcrops with ease.

“Well Jaune.”

Phos skidded to a halt, but didn't unstrap Jaune.

“We’re far into the Tourmaline Woods, a few miles from a small area called Creeperjack Forest where your training will begin. I've been running like this with a few breaks since half-twelve last night, and it is now...”

He pulled out and glanced at his pocketwatch.

“Ten-twenty-five. We are somewhere in the region of two hundred miles from Gran Arbor. At standard walking pace, that would take an adult around 65 hours of constant walking to get back, and that's not considering Grimm, supplies, or the fact you’re a child. Essentially, while out here, you are entirely reliant on me for food, water, shelter and safety. Until you are proficient enough at obtaining the first three, and I am confident enough in your abilities to train you in the fourth, the Creeperjack Forest will be your home, and I will be your God.”

**\--------------- Hunter Files --------------**

_The Rogues Association_

Huntsmen are a widely known profession. Tales are told from the frozen hovels of High Solitas to the burning sand seas of deepest Vacuo about heroes in the night who fend off the darkness. Graduates of schools that act as shining beacons against the darkness in the world.

But let's face it, four schools are not enough.

There are only four Huntsman academies, there can only be four. The kingdoms cannot afford to maintain more than one each, Atlas tried, and failed. The proportion of the Kingdoms' yearly budgets that go towards maintaining schools full of hormonal superpowered teenagers would boggle the mind if it was public. Here's the thing though, the Academies can only take on 25 teams a year. One hundred students a year, per academy. Ninety or so surviving to graduation. Approximately 360 new Huntsmen each year, all of whom will have an active career of, on average, ten years. Roughly 3600 active Huntsmen at any one time across all Remnant, to guard a population in the millions. It's not enough.

As graduates from the schools were considered elites and almost worshipped, and councils couldn't give out official Huntsmen titles to all and sundry, the numbers of official Huntsmen couldn't be increased. Thus, several town guards from Vacuo came up with an idea, they would create unlicenced Huntsmen. They'd rank their operatives to prevent them from taking tasks too far above them, and these ‘Rogue' Huntsmen would act to defend any village whose guards has encountered a problem they couldn't deal with.

The Rogues Association grew from these small beginnings. More and more villages joined, operative numbers grew. The kingdoms tried to shut them down once or twice, but the backlash forced them to back down. Eventually the Association was large enough that it spread worldwide and people almost ignored official Huntsmen when they had a task. The Huntsmen’s own reputation was killing them, people thought of them as heroes in the darkness, not the sort of people you hire for a small Beowolf pack. Due to this, the official Huntsman and Rogue Huntsman job boards were merged.

By now, for all intents and purposes, the Rogues Association is the main body people go to when they have an issue. Official Huntsmen have additional clearance and are given their own rank outside the Rogue system, and there are certain jobs which only official Huntsmen can take, which rankles high tier Rogues to no end. Many academy applicants take missions for the Rogues to increase their chances, after all, there are far more primary combat school graduates than can enter an academy. If you have ranks in the Rogues, you can at least go on with them instead of beginning a standard town guard or dropping the martial life.

Ranks within the Rogues start at G and go all the way to A (G, F, E, D, C, B, A) and each rank has three levels which are not officially used, but differentiate those who have just gone up a rank, normal operatives, and operatives ready to go up a rank. There is a very intensive exam to go up a rank, and rank skipping, or starting at a rank above G, is completely forbidden, both for the safety of operatives and clients. To take an exam you must have completed a minimum number of jobs which varies with rank. The exams tend to include written tests on the Grimm that tend to be encountered in jobs taken at the next rank, and subjects such as survival, among others. They also always include having to fight a higher ranked Rogue, always of a higher rank and at least D rank or higher. If the opponent is the level above, you are expected to beat them or at least fight them to a standstill, if they are a higher level you need only touch them, or put up a decent fight depending on the examiner. Finally, at Rank D and above you must undertake a supervised Rank D mission to assess your capabilities in the field.

There are Association branches in most towns, though smaller towns often just have a jobs board on the town hall. Large towns always have examiners on call, however, as there are over 200,000 active Rogues at any one time, there are often waiting lists for an exam. The vast majority of Rogues forever remain E rank or below, due to either choice or lack of ability. An E rank is well able to live off the rewards of his missions, and even F ranks can scrape by at a pinch. Many G ranks merely do Rogue Jobs for some side cash.

The jobs sent to the Association do not only consist of killing Grimm and fending off bandits. A Rogue Huntsman is essentially a skilled hired hand. They often bolster guard forces, assist with construction in villages, act as bodyguards, private investigators, pest control, sometimes even helping with harvests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Current ranks in the Polls:**  
> 
> 
> Weapon:  
> • The Beasthunter Saif - 0  
> • The Beastcutter - 1  
> • The Blades of Mercy - 0  
> • The Burial Blade - 2  
> • The Chikage - 0  
> • The Rakuyo - 1  
> • The Reiterpallasch - 0  
> • The Threaded Cane - 0
> 
> Firearm:  
> • The Hunter Pistol - 1  
> • The Evelyn - 2  
> • The Repeating Pistol - 1
> 
> Pairing  
> • Winter - 1
> 
> Currently the Burial Blade and Evelyn are winning the polls. We only have one vote for pairing, but I ain't opposed to the suggestion.
> 
> DevoidofNothing also suggested using the Blades of Mercy as a backup/human targets weapon, which I like the idea of and am sorely tempted to do.  
> Despite my love of the Beastcutter, I really do worry that it won't be fitting for the Jaune in this story, and I may end up eventually dropping it from the rankings, I don't know.
> 
> Please note that you may only vote once for each poll, and please only name one item for each. Two people so far have both said Evelyn or Pistol, so I put that as one vote for each, but in future it would be easier if you avoid that.
> 
> Voters for each poll
> 
> Weapons
> 
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing.
> 
> Firearm:  
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing.
> 
> Pairing:  
> KnightGalavant.
> 
> Thank you all for reading.
> 
> The story won't be going day by day, but will address the important parts of his training.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated.


	3. Creeperjack Forest 1: Sweat, Growth and Determination

Jaune was mostly silent for the rest of the run, it was slowly now filtering through his eight-year-old brain exactly how reliant he now was on Phos. Jaune may have been misguided on his beliefs in training, but he was not an idiot. Phos controlled the things he needed to live; he was as under the man’s control as he would be if he were in irons. No matter how much Jaune may not like what he was told to do, he pretty much had to do it.

The massive trees of the surroundings began to get smaller as Phos ran, the terrain gradually increasing in gradient until he was running up a steep slope. He jumped from boulder to boulder, the trees beginning to press in closer, until he skidded to a stop before a dense wall of vegetation. Tree branches the width Jaune's waist interlocked and interwove info a tight packed lattice strung with vines and festooned in vegetation of all descriptions. The trees here were shorter and smaller, but still towered well over any that grew close to Gran Arbor.

“Welcome to the Creeperjack Forest Jaune. A relatively small patch of trees growing on top of a small Mesa. These trees are found in several places across Valean territory in similar growths; Tanglethorn Grotto, Knotwood Grove and Stranglevine Thicket to name a few. They are a godsend to traveling Huntsmen, the thick weaves of their outer trees form a superb barrier against any Grimm larger than your average Beowolf, and their sap is a natural Grimm deterrent.”

Phos began slowly moving through the arboreal wall, he gently shifted branches and contorted his body through the gaps. Several times Jaune's head almost clonked off the wood, but staggeringly Phos always managed to shift himself in time.

“Of course, given these properties, people have tried to permanently settle these mesas, but all such attempts have failed. The outer barrier we’re passing through isn't the only one, the forest is full of them, and they divide it into awkward segments. People tried removing them, but the trees just died, the entire forest is actually one organism, linked by these branches, and when they are cut it starves, or dies of some kind of trauma, and the entire grove goes. Not to mention, these trees have extensive root systems that travel close to the surface for miles. People cannot grow crops within five miles of one of these.”

The branches were beginning to thin; they'd travelled well over a hundred metres through the thing.

“So, people tried cultivating them away from their mesas. Every attempt failed. People aren't sure whether it's the soil, the altitude or something else, but they don't grow elsewhere. However, they make exceptionally useful temporary bases for anyone in the wilderness.”

At last the pair broke out of the dark tangle, they emerged in a large clearing. It was very narrow and very long, the leafy canopy tinted the light, deepening the green tint of the grass covered ground. An obvious firepit lay in the centre, the cinders long grown cold, and some old tents ringed it.

“Due to this use, it's always stocked with rudimentary shelter and basic food and medical supplies.”

Phos swept his arm to display the makeshift camp.

“And thus, it will be our base of operations for the next few months. Now!”

Phos removed his axe from below Jaune’s rear, sending him sprawling to the ground. He strode across the camp and sat on a log perched beside the firepit.

“Now Jaune, I'm sure you know of your father's beliefs on Aura, that the longer you leave it before unlocking it, the stronger it is. My order has a similar but slightly different belief. Aura magnifies the individual’s ability, that's an established fact, what my order believes, is that it grows parallel to growth in physical ability, and then is doubled at the moment of activation.  
Think of it this way, at the moment you could just about lift my axe, which is a total of roughly 100kg with the strength of your entire body, and it almost made you pass out. I reckon, with one hand alone, you could just about lift 30kg. Let's say... my estimation is that with a month of training you could probably increase the amount you can lift by 5kg. If I were to unlock your aura now, you would suddenly be able to use it to lift 60kg with one arm, and in eight months would be able to lift 100kg. However, if I were to wait, in eight months’ time you would be able to lift 70kg. If I activate your aura then, you would be able to lift 140kg.

This means the longer you leave your aura locked, the stronger it is when it's finally unleashed. Imagine if you trained for three years without and could lift 200kg before it was activated, suddenly you could lift 400kg. Of course, Aura isn't just strength, it amplifies speed, reflexes, coordination and natural healing too. You have an advantage in that last category. Your scraped palms and busted nose from your fight with your sister have already healed, injuries most people would take at least a week to recover from completely.”

Jaune looked at the smooth skin on his palms, Phos was right, he had healed, but that was normal wasn’t it? Jaune’s perception had been skewed by living in Gran Arbor, but he supposed he could have above average healing.

“Another thing to consider Jaune, is over-reliance. Many young trainees with activated auras lean on them heavily. They forget that when they break, they will be just as squishy as everyone else, their weapons will be that much heavier, the recoil from their weapons will break bones... It's not a good idea.

Because of this Jaune, I will not unlock your aura until you are actively enrolled in Beacon. I told your father I wouldn't ever, but you'll need it by then, and I expect you will have already unlocked it anyway. Aura is unlocked by trauma, and more than five years active rogue service? That will be traumatic.”

Jaune had got up from the ground and joined Phos around the pit. Phos removed his glasses for the first time, and Jaune was shocked to see that his left eye was a mass of scar tissue. Phos noticed Jaune's stare and gestured at the ruined socket.

“This is what happens, when an apprentice thinks he knows more than his master, and this:”

Phos pulled up his left jacket sleeve to reveal a shockingly pale arm marred by a massive ropy scar that traveled directly up the center of his forearm. Small strings of scar tissue radiated from the central mark, and jagged trails of damaged flesh shot from either end, one terminating on the back of his hand in a spiderweb of red lines. It appeared as if a massive blade had slid between the bones of his forearm, causing immense trauma to the surrounding region. Jaune was certain that the other side of his arm would feature a similar mark from the exit wound.

“Is what happens when you rely too much on Aura. I trusted my Aura completely after it unlocked, but I very quickly learned how wrong I was. I almost lost the arm to this injury, and it still hinders me to this day. I used to fight mainly with my left arm, but since this I had to swap to my right. I will put you through hell, but so long as you do not put yourself in danger like I did, I will do my best to keep you safe. From now, your first goal is to lift my axe with one hand. That, and run from here-“

Phos pointed to the firepit.

“to there-”

He then pointed to the other end of the area they were in, it seemed to be roughly 400 meters.

“in under 1:30, repeatedly. I'll be providing you with weights for lifting, mostly rocks of appropriate size, and making sure you run for appropriate periods. Once you’re suitably physically fit, I'll move you on to more fun things.”

Jaune had been stunned by Phos' eye and the arm had just made it worse, the news of what he was expected to do horrified him but... His teacher’s injuries had mollified him somewhat, if that was what could happen if he wasn't prepared.... Maybe he should do some of this stuff? It wouldn't be as much help as Aura but... If he wanted to be the best, it couldn't hurt he supposed. Besides, there was little else to do out here.

For the next few weeks, Jaune's days were very similar, he'd be woken at half six by the sun filtering through the woven walls and Phos making breakfast. He’d then eat, before being expected to do stretches to prepare for his day of work. He was forced to do reps of thirty in exercises with a boulder provided by Phos for two hours. Starting off on his back with it on his chest and lifting it up into the air, before moving to a smaller rock, holding it between his hands and doing sit ups. Between each rep he was allowed a very short break and then a longer one every ten reps. Phos kept a constant eye on him and expertly judged how much rest he needed to keep going. At nine he was given a half hour break from exercise, Phos would occasionally tell him snippets of information that he would need as a Huntsman, showing him what plants worked as medicine or were edible and telling him stories about his experiences. From half nine there were two hours of running, preceded by more stretches. He was expected to run as long as he could between breaks, but was allowed breaks. Jaune quickly worked out that Phos allowed him longer breaks if he kept walking during them.

A small freshwater spring through one of the woven walls ensured Jaune was always hydrated, and preserved meat, courtesy of Phos’ packs, ensured he always had enough energy.

At half eleven Jaune had another break while Phos cooked, he was expected to observe Phos while he was doing so however, and occasionally was asked to assist.

By the time lunch was over, at about one, Jaune’s muscles had somewhat recovered. The afternoon’s exercises didn't require the rocks. It was press-ups and squats for two hours, then another half hour break and two hours of pull-ups and the plank.

By now it was half five, and after another break and running period, dinner was being served. Jaune was utterly dead on his feet by this point and sort of went through the evening meal in a total haze before collapsing into the pile of blankets that served as his bed at about nine o'clock.

Obviously he couldn't stick to this brutal regimen constantly, Phos was generous with the breaks he let Jaune take, and he was constantly monitoring him for any issues.

Every seventh day Phos let Jaune relax, at least physically. Instead of exercise he would quiz Jaune on every bit of information he had told him over the past week, whether it was hidden in a story or part of a recipe. Jaune was unwittingly being taught the basics for wilderness survival, though practical experience would be needed before he could claim proficiency. During the afternoon Jaune could totally relax, while Phos checked his traps and scavenged for the other food necessary to see them through the coming week.  
Jaune couldn't say he enjoyed the exercise, in fact he hated it with a passion. Despite Arborians naturally having fairly good physiques and an unnatural healing speed, Jaune had never been particularly active. The Arborian physique did mean he was stronger than most other kids with his lifestyle, but shifting from that to full focus on training was harsh. In Phos’ own training, when he was an apprentice, he could only train every second day at first due to muscle pain, it would have been every three days, but his master had known a herbal medicine which accelerated muscle repair. Thanks to Jaune's unusually fast healing speed (which just about exceeded most other Arborians) and this herbal mix (which Phos was slipping into every meal) Jaune’s aches and pains recovered pretty much overnight.

Three months into training Jaune stopped to look into the small pool created by the spring during his morning ablutions. Peering at his reflection, Jaune couldn't help but be shocked. He slowly ran a hand over his face to check he wasn't seeing things. The slight chubbiness that had plagued Jaune ever since he was first old enough to notice and compare himself to others had vanished. His arms, beneath their deteriorating clothes were becoming defined. Pulling up his worn shirt he could see the changes were not confined to his arms, a developing six pack was visible on his abdomen  
Jaune couldn't deny he liked the changes to his body, nor could he deny, despite his distaste for the activity and his still fervent belief Aura was more important, that he could feel his strength improving. In truth, Phos had secretly been swapping out Jaune's rocks every now and again However that didn't prevent Jaune noticing that the exercises without rocks were becoming easier and easier. Thinking back, as he flexed his arms and legs a bit, Jaune realised that his speed and endurance with the running had improved drastically, and he could hold the plank for much longer than he ever could before.

At that point, looking down to his reflection, his face framed by an increasingly wild and long mane of hair, Jaune finally came to a conclusion. Even if this wasn't as good as activating his aura, it was an improvement over his previous self. Maybe he shouldn't totally disregard it. He resolved that if he had to do this, he would _do it_.

As a more alert than usual Jaune pushed his way through the woven barrier that separated the camp from the spring and sat down to attack breakfast, Phos seemed to pick up on his change in attitude almost immediately. The first three scroll calls Phos had made back to Aurum had remarked on Jaune's process, but hadn't been able to talk about any improvement in motivation at all. And with Jaune's ninth birthday rapidly approaching at about the time the fourth call was scheduled Phos thanked the powers that be that his apprentice seemed to have finally bucked up. The timing was perfect. If Jaune really had stepped up his game Phos may not even have to postpone the visit back to Gran Arbor in two months.

Phos had been brutal for a reason, he wanted Jaune to be as physically capable as your average twelve-year-old huntsman trainee (which was an order of magnitude more capable than your average twelve-year-old civilian) before he began any sort of weapons training. Twelve was the age people could enrol in primary combat schools for a reason, the average body a younger child had couldn't cope with swinging around weapons of the weight used at these schools, at least, with any degree of safety. Phos didn't care whether Jaune was actually that old, but he did want him at that level of physicality.

As Phos watched Jaune dig in to the breakfast of hard biscuits, leftover squirrel from the night before, and a few rashers of Boarbatusk bacon, he decided to come straight out and ask Jaune about his mindset.

“Jaune.”

Jaune looked up from his plate, some bacon hanging out of a mouth below steely blue eyes which on any normal day would still be misted with sleep.

“How are you finding training?”

Jaune looked at Phos with a stare and gestured to his body. Jaune's hair had grown very long in the three months and slowly flopped into his face, blocking his and Phos’ eye contact. Despite washing in the spring every morning, his face remained dusty, and his clothes, all the sets Phos had brought with him, were worn, faded and developing some rather impressive holes. He had grown an inch or so, and filled out in other places, so they were looking a little small as well. His shoes were well on their way to disintegrating, luckily Phos had secretly brought a pair of boots to give have when his shoes finally died.

“Yes Jaune, I can see that, I meant do you think it's going well? Can you see the benefits?”

Jaune looked to the side for a moment before swallowing his food.

“I'm getting more used to it I suppose... And I guess it's not entirely useless... I'm getting a bit more used to them.”

Well, that would have to do. Jaune spent so much time exhausted that Phos wasn’t surprised how little he talked now, just didn't have the energy or spare concentration to construct sentences. Phos also suspected that Jaune was deliberately understating how much easier he was finding exercises, out of a fear that Phos would make them harder.

...

Well, yes he would.

Phos took this conversation as a sign to step things up. Running was now interspersed with periods of sprinting, when doing pull ups Phos tied a rock to his legs, when doing the plank he put one on his back. Essentially more rocks, and heavier rocks.

To say Jaune was displeased was an understatement, but he'd made the promise to himself to put his all in, and an Arc never goes back on his word.

The four-month call went well, the only sisters still in Gran Arbor were Xantha, Melina, Verdell and Tawn, but as they all crowded around the stuttery, low quality video call, CCT connection out here wasn’t exactly good, they could see Jaune looking rather run down. The first sentence of your ninth birthday party being your fifteen year old sister (Verdell) saying:

“Oh Dust, he's turning into a Xantha.”

While dropping her head into her hands was a bit of a tone setter. Xantha herself gave an approving thumbs up, grinning like a loon. Sienna the squirrel now had pride of place on his sister’s shoulder, as she had finally convinced her parents to let her keep it (provided she kept it under control of course). If the squirrel’s frantic chittering could be considered to be trying to communicate, it seemed to be as enthused as it's master. Melina smiled at him approvingly and nodded, she was a woman of few words, but even she was missing her baby brother.

“You seem to be filling out well, give my regards to your teacher, he seems to know what he's doing.”

Tawn, as Jaune had expected, had been almost crying in the corner of the screen, and at first opportunity, yelled at him for leaving without letting her say goodbye. She quickly transitioned into telling him to stay safe and visit soon, though her voice didn't lose the 'verge of crying’ tone.

His mother was supportive as always, but she mostly kept to the background, ensuring that her children all behaved.

After the well wishes had been given they threw an awkward party over the scroll connection. The low quality video, and sparse selections of food on both ends (Juniper not wanting her son to feel bad about his sisters getting an elaborate meal on his birthday while he was stuck with whatever supplies Phos had managed to gather and cook) meant the party was a small one, but Jaune appreciated it all the same.

Phos’ later conversation with Aurum allowed him to give the Arc patriarch the good news. Phos correctly didn't believe that he had totally erased Jaune’s 'aura is most important’ mindset, but he had at least convinced him to throw himself into training.

After the call, the next two months were just more training. As they began to approach the first travel back to Gran Arbor, Jaune had yet to reach the level Phos wanted, but that was unsurprising. Given Phos wanted him to be as strong and fast as people a third of his age older than him who had been training since the moment they could walk, he expected it to take at least a year, probably more. Phos fully expected him to be pushing ten years old before he was ready. The thing is, Jaune's time was limited. If he was to reach rank C in the association by 17 Phos reckoned he would spend at least six years fighting his way up from G rank, probably more. Given Jaune’s birthday in relation to Beacon's year, that meant Jaune needed to be able to fight decently before he was 12, preferably soon after turning 11. Essentially, the less time his training took, the better.

Despite not reaching the goal, Phos was impressed with Jaune's progress, before the journey he tested Jaune with his axe again and he could lift it with both hands, it was a bit of a strain, but a massive improvement. With each hand Jaune could now lift about 70kg, up from the 30kg when he started. This did put Jaune as increasing faster than Phos thought he would, and Jaune should finish within the next six months.

The running was getting better too, he often managed to hit the 1:40s and it was becoming easier and easier. However, Phos was under no delusion that Jaune could run home. The kid weighed more than he used to, but not enough that Phos couldn't carry him.  
Exactly six months from the day Jaune's training began, Phos buried a cache of food in case anyone else used the Creeperjack Forest as a sanctuary, and the pair set off for Gran Arbor.

The journey was far less eventful than Jaune was hoping for. He knew Phos was strong from the grimmflesh he often provided as supplies, but he had yet to actually see him in combat. In the run through ancient woodland he did actually spot several Grimm; A Beowolf pack here, a rogue Ursa or two, but Phos just diverted from the almost straight line he was running to skirt their perception or throw them off the scent. The were only two times he took special action to avoid Grimm, in both cases class three Grimm. The first was taken to avoid a young Scuttleback. Scuttlebacks are roughly the size of a family car, and share many of the same features as Deathstalkers. A long oblong body edged with four pairs of armour-plated legs, these legs however extended high above the level of the creatures back before curving back to the ground, giving them their name. Instead of pincers they had a pair of long jointed appendages covered in spines and featured no tail at all.

Scuttlebacks are feared as, despite their large size, the giant trees of the Tourmaline Woods allow them to be arboreal hunters, dropping from the canopy before unsuspecting prey, their strange legs acting as shock absorbers, and attacking with their spiny arms. This smaller young Scuttleback however was on the ground and, despite a long winding chase, was unable to catch up to Phos.

The second was a full grown Taurochs, a considerably more dangerous foe, these elephant-sized angry bovine monsters sported four impressive horns and could charge through concrete, but Phos merely took to the trees temporarily to escape its notice. To be honest Jaune was kind of annoyed, he wanted to see his master in action.

When Gran Arbor hoved into view through the treeline Jaune was actually surprised how muted his emotional response was. He missed his family and was looking forward to seeing them sure, but a large part of him wanted to get back to the forest. He'd become invested, he'd started a task and wanted to do it right because, as loath as he was to admit it, he could see worth in what he was doing. He was stronger, he was faster, his work had produced tangible results which were precious to him and he wanted to improve.  
Dust dammit, maybe Aura wasn't as all-important as he had thought.

**\--------------- Hunter Files --------------**

_The Woven Havens_

The Woven Havens is the collective name for many safe spots scattered across Vale. The trees within these havens grow in tangled knots, forming tight barriers against the outside. The young but highly lauded Mistralian Huntress-Botanist Myrtle Greyton discovered during her PHD study on the Havens that not only was the theory of Dr Orchid Valentine, that all trees in a haven were an extension of the same organism, true, but that the Havens had a highly sophisticated system of pheromones. The Havens could communicate with one another across the wind, sending information such as 'storm’ or 'good rain' (albeit these messages tended to arrive mere hours before the event in question, but there were notable changes to the recipient within those hours). They could also utilize these pheromones to influence other organisms, the scents were found to be the source of the phenomenon encouraging Grimm to give the trees a wide berth, but were also found to affect humans.

The Havens’ effects on human biology, as far as is known, are not damaging, their pheromones seem to discourage damaging the trees and, oddly, encourage focus and effort. This discovery was a mystery for several months until Dr Greyton discovered the remains of an ancient stone structure encased within a woven barrier in the Haven of Stranglevine Thicket.

Not having much experience with Archaeology, Dr Greyton called on a highly valued contact, due to a shared teacher training exercise at Beacon academy Dr Greyton had struck up a rapport with the older huntsman Dr Bartholomew Oobleck,a very highly renowned Historian and Archaeologist.

Dr Oobleck's study of the Stranglevine Ruins was not easy, they were a small ruin, barely a single building and constructed of loose stone, but an incredibly worn carving, discovered in what was once a stone beam over the door, began to reveal clues. The carving was written in a variation of an exceedingly old language, that through mutation, fusion and appropriation eventually would become modern Valean. Dr Oobleck couldn't be entirely sure of his translation, but it appeared to indicate a symbiotic relationship between the trees and people. The trees provided protection and shelter from all but the smallest creatures of Grimm, while the people protected the trees from its herbivorous predators. Suddenly the trees attention focusing and effort intensifying pheromones made sense.

However, it had already been proven that turning a Haven into a modern settlement, or growing the organisms somewhere more useful, was not feasible. So despite the research, the Havens were allowed to fade back to just being safe locations for Huntsmen in the wild to rest, or maybe take advantage of the pheromones to raise a protégé.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that Jaune's training is probably the sort of thing that would kill someone, but it's fantasy, so I don't really care. The polls will continue for quite a while, and you will be warned a chapter before they close.
> 
> **Current ranks in the Polls:**
> 
> Weapon:  
> • The Beasthunter Saif - 0  
> • The Beastcutter - 1  
> • The Burial Blade - 4  
> • The Chikage - 0  
> • The Rakuyo - 3  
> • The Reiterpallasch - 0  
> • The Threaded Cane - 0
> 
> Firearm:  
> • The Hunter Pistol - 1  
> • The Evelyn - 6  
> • The Repeating Pistol - 1
> 
> Pairing  
> • Winter - 4  
> • Yang - 1  
> • Neo (aka Little Miss Happy-Go-Stabby) - 1
> 
> The Burial Blade and Rakuyo seem to be in a two horse race, while the Evelyn pulls ahead of its competition. On the pairing front it seems likely we will be getting some Winter Knight going on.
> 
> A note on the pairing, there won't be any actual hint of pairing till he is at least at Beacon, but the pool will be closing before that as I want him to get to know the person sometime in his time as a Rogue. I already have a plan for how to do this should Winter keep her lead.
> 
> Eagle eyed readers may notice the dropping of the Blades of Mercy from the polls, that is because I have decided on using them as a backup weapon for a few reasons. Chief of which, when Jaune starts fighting he will be 10. Do you think a Burial Blade, Rakuyo or other weapon built for a 10 year old would be usable by a 17 year old or vis-versa? No. But the BoM would be twin swords to a 10 year old, and the pair of large daggers they are supposed to be to a 17 year old.
> 
> Again I must urge voters to only vote for **ONE entry in each category**. Should you try and enter more than one I will just take the first written in the comment. It's not fair on other voters if one person gets three or four votes and everyone else gets one.
> 
> **Voters for each poll**
> 
> Weapons
> 
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Lagzal, Cegorach.
> 
> Firearm:  
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Lagzal, Cegorach.
> 
> Pairing:  
> KnightGalavant, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Tango Mike, Lagzal, Cegorach.
> 
> Thank you all for reading.  
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated as always.


	4. Gran Arbor 3: A loss and a gain of Belonging

The dusty streets of Gran Arbor were thronged with the weekend markets, hawkers shouting their wares and customers haggling in raised voices formed a constant hubbub of noise. Phos waded through the crowd, his misshapen top hat seeming like a boat floating on the sea of heads. Jaune stuck close to Phos wake, such to not lose his master. The pair’s journey had been mostly overnight, so the morning rush was still in full swing.

It was strange, albeit Jaune hadn't historically spent much time on the streets of the town, preferring to find something to do in the Arc compound, but he felt... Out of place. As if he no longer really fitted. Of course, the long messy hair and tattered clothes probably didn't help people's opinion of him, but he still felt like his hometown should feel... Right, and it just didn't.

Before they made the short walk to Jaune's home, Phos was making one quick detour. He was gonna make more detours later that night, the Arborian Clearglade had run out a month ago and by Oedon did he need a drink, but those could wait.

Gran Arbor's Rogues Association building dominated the central town square. As several prominent members of the organisation were from the town, and the number of Arborians who joined each year was disproportionally high, it was given pride of place. Phos wasn’t planning to take on a mission or, Flora forbid, letting Jaune join the association already, he was merely going there to get news. To see if anything had happened to people he knew, or if Great War Two had decided to blow up in his absence.

The large building was made entirely of wood and, at four stories tall, was one of the largest buildings in the town. The top floor was admin quarters and living space, as the staff were given food and board as part of their pay, the bottom floor was the reception, indoor arena, test room, and pub. In between you had two floors of storeroom, infirmary, stockpile, filing cabinet, and several rooms for Rogues with no arrangements for a place to sleep. Out back there were garages, stables, an outside training ground and a smithy.

The reception was currently being staffed by an old hand, Carmal Blackjagger had been working the Gran Arbor Association building for the last twenty years, since retirement from active rogue service, and knew pretty much as much as anyone could know about the association. By the time Phos had reached the reception, she had already recognised him, pulled up his file and checked for any new messages.

Phos tipped his hat slightly to Carmal.

“Ms Blackjagger.”

His smile was cryptically fond, Phos didn't know much about her personally, but his long experience as a rogue had led him to her desk several times in the past, and he respected her for her work. Beware the old woman in a profession where people die young.

“Welcome back to my desk again Mr Argentum. And hello to you too, little lad.”

Her smile at Jaune unnerved him for some reason, it was a bit... Analytical.

“There's nothing particularly urgent in the system for you at the moment. Mr Schnee has filed a letter of commendation with the association for your work up in New Eisgarten, and has whitelisted you for further tasks of a similar importance that he submits. You received monthly letters from Finchley Winchester, as you have for... Is it 4 years? He’s persistent, I give him that... Telling you to return to Grey Crags to 'settle your differences’... Still wondering what you did."

She sighed.

“Other than that, a few late reports from old jobs filtering through, standard paperwork... That's it. Nothing that deserves your attention at least.”

“No news from the Oscuras outpost?”

Her head dropped and she let out another sigh.

“The Association has had no contact with the twelfth Oscuras outpost for the last nine weeks. It seems it's gone the same way as all eleven previous attempts.”

Phos hung his head.

“I expected as much. Tell me if the organisation plans to set up a thirteenth, maybe it'll be the lucky one.”

“I expect them to take a break for a few years, the cost of setting one up is pretty high.”

Jaune hadn't ever actually visited the association building before and he was looking intently around. The front room was the reception and pub and the interior had a remarkable detail to the wooden construction, carvings littered a lot of the beams and wall panels, not to mention the tables and bar. The Arborians were proud of their links with the association so they freely lent a hand whenever repairs were needed. Not to mention that, due to the varied work performed by the Rogues, several had become master craftsmen.

There were a few Rogues in the pub, not drinking much as it was still early, some were having brunch, some were just talking and some were checking the mission boards. They were varied, from the grizzled, grumpy stereotypical long-time adventurer, to the pre-academy Huntsman wannabe.

Phos walked over to the wide eyed Jaune and put his hand down on the kid's shoulder.

“C’mon Jaune. We need to... Just a sec.”

Phos looked down at his apprentice and turned back to the reception desk.

“Hey, Ms Blackjagger! Do you know any nearby barbers? Or huntsman gear shops? I don't want him to keep ending up in rags.”

“Out the door, turn left, head down the third street, fourth shop on the right for gear. Barber across the street, don't worry, they have a shower.”

Phos tipped his hat as they left.

Phos had become increasingly annoyed with Jaune's clothes as the training had gone by. If his sanity was going to hold he needed to get Jaune some Huntsman grade gear, simply because their clothes were so much tougher than civilian garb that he may stay out of rags for at least a few months.

First stop, barber. The barber momentarily frowned when he saw Jaune enter, looking for all intents and purposes like a street rat, but Phos following him and flashing a Huntsman license quickly caused the man to relax.

“I need to get my Apprentice cleaned up; can he use your shower before we use your services?”

The barber quickly agreed, having a Huntsman license had its perks. Phos wasn’t the freshest person either right now, but his clothes were tough, and his silver hair looked fine. The hair was a bit longer than normal as it reached his shoulders, but since he hadn’t been doing as rigorous an exercise plan as Jaune it was in a lot better condition. He'd have it cut later.

When Jaune sat in front of the mirror he thought back to his training. He had changed, his body, in some ways his outlook on life, and most certainly his relationship with Gran Arbor. He no longer felt like he belonged, doubtless if he spent a few weeks in the city that would change back, but he didn't want it to. He was going to be a Huntsman, he was on that path, and he couldn't allow himself to be distracted. He was changing, albeit slowly, but he needed to mark that change.

When Jaune had sat down at the barber his fringe reached his nose and his hair was beginning to reach his shoulders. When he left the shop, his fringe was more normal, but the rest retained most of its length. He was going to grow it out. Maybe it wasn't a particularly good idea, since it would be harder to maintain and a pain with washing and keeping clean, but he was resolved.

Jaune may have been cleaner, but his clothes still wouldn't be accepted by a charity shop. The Huntsman clothing store across the street was pretty popular, Huntsmen didn't need to replace their clothing often, so it was generally quite expensive, but the price was worth it.

As soon as they entered Phos marched Jaune away from the front of the shop, filled with popular trends and extremely bright colours, and to a corner at the back. He was fine with Jaune having some colour, but he didn't really want his Apprentice strutting around in a bright yellow jumpsuit or the like. His Order had always worn similar clothes. Personal taste and fashion trends had lent individuality to each member, and the advance of technology had caused improvements over the years, but the basic components hung around.

Firstly, the Order must look sharp. Phos had been told that certain members had forsaken this in the past, but it was a tenant widely stuck to. Considering the duties of the order... It was unsurprising. Second, coats. Almost invariably the order wore long coats. Most commonly leather like Phos' but some had been known to use other materials, and in the long past the Crows had used wing-like capes made of feathers personally collected from prey. Third, very little or no armour. Some had decided to use armour to an extent, lamella often being favoured, or the occasional chestplate, gauntlet or armoured boot. But heavy defence was a no go. Fourth, fairly dark colours, as said before, splashes of colour were common, but the majority of the outfit tended towards black and dark grey, the occasional member going for dark brown. And finally, a hat. That seemed to be the one thing that every single member Phos had heard about had in common, some form of headwear.

Phos had been looking forward to this for a while, finally he'd get to put his apprentice through what he'd gone through!

“Jaune, the reason I took an apprentice, is because I am the current member of an ancient Order. My order must be passed on, and it comes with several important duties I will relay to you in time. However, first off, you must present yourself in a way that befits the Order. As such, I will be picking out your gear. You can tell me if something is uncomfortable, and you can alter it yourself later, but for now it's up to me.”

Jaune was a little annoyed, but he could partially see the wisdom. Phos’ experience probably gave him a better understanding of what would be effective, and Jaune’s dreams of being a white armoured Knight of good had been somewhat dashed by realising that full plate armour was probably not a good idea in dense forest, nor would carrying it be fun. Plus, Jaune couldn't deny, Phos looked cool. A dusty, brooding antihero kind of cool, but cool nonetheless.

The section of the shop they were in served two purposes, catering to people like Phos with archaic and overly practical tastes, and providing clothes for Huntsmen who had to attend high profile gatherings while still being defended. Though admittedly there was little call for that in Gran Arbor, if someone was flying off to Atlas, they probably wanted their suit before they arrived. Jaune was young but tall for his age, and Remnant suffered from a problem with extremely variable height. It was why giants like Phos or Aurum were only slightly odd, but it meant that there were small Huntsman clothes, and a talented in-house tailor could adjust them for Jaune, with room for growth.

Jaune’s hair was very yellow, it was slightly annoying for coordinating an outfit, but Phos was pretty sure that in a few years Jaune's hair would be tending towards white. Order members without white, grey or black hair by their twenties were rare.

First were a pair of smart but rugged dark grey trousers, they seemed too good for the wilderness, but large pockets made them a good option. These were coupled with a white shirt and a dark brown leather waistcoat. Phos decided against a tie or neckerchief for now, because they would likely annoy Jaune, but both had their uses. A tie made of strong material was a good tourniquet, good for binding or gagging criminals, could be used as a short rope or aid in strangulation, whereas a neckerchief was a bandage, a tourniquet, somewhere to write in a pinch, a gag, or a flag to get attention.

The waistcoat was as much protection as Jaune was going to get for now. The leather was woven with a metal mesh that made it somewhat knife-proof, and it could hold up to class one Grimm for a minute or so. It also had pockets and straps coating it. There was a common huntsman saying, 'you can never have too many pockets’.

This was when Phos unveiled the boots he had bought earlier; they were tough black leather with rugged tread and hidden steel toes. The tops of the boots turned down and looked similar to the boots favoured by sailors. Though the rough footwear, secured with many buckles, was a bit out of the slick look, they still didn't ruin it, and Phos would forgo most of his gear for a good pair of boots. Buckles were better than laces, as they were less likely to loosen or come undone.

The coat was the most important part, Phos had worn similar coats ever since the first one he was bought, improving it each time, but sticking to the same design. His was fairly simple, a large flared collar to keep the elements off, but that was it. Other than that, at least in form, it was just a long grey coat.

Phos spent about ten minutes looking through the meagre selection of coats available, and he quickly whittled it down to three. Eventually he pulled one off the rack. It was an extremely dark grey, if not black, and made of leather like his own. It came down to mid calf in two tails that had a striking red lining. The collar was larger than Phos’ but it was turned down. This allowed the collar to cover part of a short cape that was clasped by a chain. The cape covered both shoulders and was made of thinner leather. A pair of dark brown leather gloves were added before Phos decided to look at hats. Again the selection was small, but that didn't deter him. Despite Phos' temptation to give Jaune a top hat like his own he resisted. The only top hat they had was frankly awful, and he could already see a hat that looked far better for Jaune.

The hat was important because the head didn't grow much, this would accompany Jaune for longer than any of his other gear. Many, including Phos, had had their hat altered as they grew, to wear it as long as possible. The hat was a dark grey tricorn, edged with a golden trim and featuring a small and tasteful plume of grey feathers on one side.

Phos took a step back to look at his Apprentice's new look. Besides Jaune's lack of weapons and short stature he almost looked the part. Other than Phos’ personal desire to get Jaune in better clothes there was a reason to do this. If Jaune got used to the clothes now, he wouldn't have to adjust later, and they would become second nature.

As the pair left the shop Jaune couldn't help but keep glancing at his new clothes. The coat was so cool! He looked a bit smarter than most Huntsmen he knew, but Phos went around with a battered top hat and what looked suspiciously like a silk waistcoat, so he wasn't surprised. The boots and gloves felt ridiculously hardy, but he did notice that the outfit was heavier than his old clothes. His biggest worry was the hat, sure it was a good hat, but he wasn't sure whether he liked it, or whether it made him look like a twat.

The two were now heading to the Arc compound, it was approaching lunchtime, and Jaune was apprehensive about talking to his family.

As they passed through the gate the various cabins hoved into view, Jaune was momentarily surprised to see no-one in the sparring ring, but after a moment he realised it wasn't that odd. With the twins and Saphron away, Melina at the walls and Verdell not sparring all that much, the only people who'd really be using it were Xantha and Tawn.

Phos walked over to the main cabin and rapped on the door. After some thudding of heavy feet it opened to reveal Aurum. The six months had done little to change Jaune's father, a few more grey hairs perhaps, but little more. As soon as Aurum recognised Jaune he pulled him up and into a hug, Jaune’s ribs creaking sightly at the force.

“Welcome back!”

When Jaune was let go he bent over panting.

“Haa, haa, hello, haa, dad.”

Aurum's face was beaming, he could see Jaune's bulking up, even through the coat, and the hug had let him get a good grasp on his son’s growth.

The reunion then became decidedly awkward, Aurum supposed it must be his fault, he wasn't exactly the most present father, and he didn't really know much about his son’s tastes. Sure, he kept an eye on him, but knowing someone's condition is not the same as knowing them.

Phos saved Aurum from his discomfort quite quickly however.

“Jaune? I have to talk with your father for a while. Why don't you go reconnect with your sisters?”

Jaune's quick exit let Aurum release a sigh of relief.

“You know Phos? In a way I feel I've failed him.”

Aurum waved Phos in and led him over to the meeting room. The main house contained a kitchen, dining room, living room, stores and assorted utility buildings, and an audience chamber where Aurum could talk to guests or perform some mayoral duties. His personal study was in the Arc parent’s sleeping cabin. Aurum directed Phos to a large couch before walking to a decanter in the corner of the room and pouring two generous glasses of Armourbee Gold, an exceedingly costly mead produced by a local Mazer family.

“A father should be there for their kids, but managing this town, it drains you dry. There are so many things I missed in his life so far, and now he's off training... Well, I better make the most of what I can.”

He walked over to the couch opposite Phos and collapsed into the leather seat, giving Phos one of the glasses.

“So, now that we can talk face to face, how is he doing?”

Phos took a generous sip of the honey liquor, Gran Arbor’s reputation for alcohol was well deserved.

“Honestly? Far better than I ever expected, especially in the last few months. He seemed to have resolved to do his best no matter what, even when I increased the intensity he kept going.”

Aurum stroked his wiry beard a little.

“An Arc never goes back on his word.”

Phos raised his glass.

“Indeed. He's doing well enough that I may start teaching him hand to hand, footwork and survival over the next six months, a lot earlier than planned. Anyway, you probably noticed Jaune's new attire. That represents the first stage of entry into my order. He's not a full member, and I don't intend to make him one until he's at least D rank, but that represents my resolve. I have decided Jaune will be my successor, my doubts have gone.

**\--------------- Hunter Files --------------**

_The Heirs of The Moon Reborn (Public)_

As far as the Order knows, this is the data possessed by the Rogue Association on the Heirs of the Moon Reborn.

The Heirs of the Moon Reborn are a long standing organisation. So old that they predate historical records. The oldest known records of the Order are as a mercenary group in the defunct Kingdom of Sanguinare, deep in the Green Spine mountains that separate Vale and Vacuo. They are only known there from badly preserved tax records found among ruins, but Sanguinare fell approximately 700 years ago (around 600 BVT - Before Vytal Treaty). They pop up occasionally in several places between then and 500 BVT, but no major evidence has been found until they re-emerge in some records from Dale, a small Kingdom that would eventually grow to become Vale.

The earliest of these records seem to be from roughly 498 BVT, and at this point in time they were a Knight order approximately fifty strong, sworn to the crown of Dale. During the Dalean wars of succession between 473 and 467 BVT the Order left the service of the crown. These wars of succession are what caused the royal family of Dale to change from the long ruling Bracken family, to their cadet branch the Prasinos family, who renamed the nation Vale and ruled until the dissolution of feudalism.

For two centuries there are records of the Heirs taking jobs as protectors, effectively acting as Huntsmen even in the days long before they existed. In fact, it was the tendency of the Heirs to call themselves 'Hunters of Beasts' that led to the title of Huntsman in the first place. However two calamities seemed to befall the order 170 years ago, in 90 BVT, shortly after the Colonisation wars of Vacuo came to an end. The Heirs of the Moon Reborn were the first group in several centuries known to have braved the shores of Oscuras, and they were routed completely. Of the sixty-odd members only twenty three made it back. This would be bad enough, but it seems the failure led to infighting within the Order, and the group slaughtered each other, literally to a man.

The Grandmaster of the order at the time; Vulner Wolfskin, was the only survivor, and since that day the Heirs have kept to a strict rule of two members, a master and apprentice. This has continued in an unbroken line to the current master, Phos Argentum, a talented individual and renowned Huntsman. Members of the order are easily recognised due to their taste in attire, favouring Gothic assemblages of practical gear mixed with formal wear, and their simple and brutal, though effective, weaponry. The Heirs are among the only organisations with a permanent licence to carry and produce weapons of Siderite, a license that people have attempted to revoke several times, most notably during the Vytal Treaty, but this has failed every time, as the license is hard wired into several old pieces of legislature which cannot be altered easily. The group remained totally neutral during the Great War, and its two members at the time busied themselves with defending civilians from Grimm.

Members of the Order are well respected within the Association and other such circles, they are effective, dedicated and for the most part loyal to protecting civilians. There have been rumors of older members becoming violent and unruly, but these incidents are few and far between, and often unsubstantiated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, sorry it's been a little while. I'm supposed to be writing my masters thesis and I've just been feeling generally unmotivated lately. At least I've updated this story, To Find Untroubled Waters hasn't been updated in far too long (don't worry, I am working on the next chapter.)
> 
> So, Jaune finally has some Hunter gear! The pieces may change over time (except probably the hat), but currently his clothes are based off the Old Hunter gear, minus the big over-shoulder belt for now, with Maria's gloves and hat.
> 
> **Current ranks in the Polls:**
> 
> Weapon:  
> • The Beasthunter Saif - 1  
> • The Beastcutter - 1  
> • The Burial Blade - 7  
> • The Chikage - 1  
> • The Rakuyo - 4  
> • The Reiterpallasch - 0  
> • The Threaded Cane - 0
> 
> Firearm:  
> • The Hunter Pistol - 1  
> • The Evelyn - 8  
> • The Repeating Pistol - 1
> 
> Pairing  
> • Winter - 5  
> • Yang - 2  
> • Neo (aka Little Miss Happy-Go-Stabby) - 2  
> • Ruby - 1
> 
> The Evelyn continues its lead, while the burial blade begins to inch ahead again. I have started adding breadcrumbs for Winter as the partner, but we are a long way from setting that in stone. 
> 
> **Voters for each poll**
> 
> Weapons
> 
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Lagzal, Cegorach, Niho, N1njapanda15, Rogue_eL, REGIKING, Axccel, Ya Boy.
> 
> Firearm:  
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Lagzal, Cegorach, Rogue_eL, Ya Boy.
> 
> Pairing:  
> KnightGalavant, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Tango Mike, Lagzal, Cegorach, Niho, N1njapanda15, Nsss, Rogue_eL.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, Kudos and comments are always appreciated, and if you have interest feel free to vote in the polls, just please keep it to one entry per category. Though I'm giving him a secondary melee in the Blades of Mercy, I don't plan to give him a secondary gun, or tertiary anything.


	5. Gran Arbor 4: A Step Forward and The Worries of Family

As Jaune left the house and looked around the yard he was still conflicted about being home, the place felt empty. Five people lived where ten did before. Thinking that maybe some company would alleviate the feeling he set off to Xantha's cabin, his coat billowing out behind him just as Phos’ had done so many months before.

The green door to Xantha's room hadn't changed, but as he raised his fist to knock he paused momentarily. What was he going to say? Steeling himself, he knocked anyway. With Xantha plans didn't work.

The knock was slightly muffled by the leather of his gloves, but still rang enough to be easily audible. As the door swung open Jaune wasn't entirely sure what to expect, but the fact that the Xantha revealed had obviously gone through a growth spurt in the past few months was not it. Where the two children had once been roughly of a height with one another, Xantha was now noticeably taller, Jaune's eyeline closer to her nose than anything else. He wasn't given much time to look at Xantha though, before she dived at him in a flying hug that knocked him to the floor. Only a quick grab preventing his hat from skidding off across the dirt.

“Jaaaaauuuuunnnneeee!”

This was probably the most enthusiastic hug Xantha had ever given him. She didn't seem to want to let go. With a little effort he finally climbed to his feet, the girl still clinging to him. Sienna the squirrel made herself known with a chitter and leapt onto Xantha's head.

“So, uh... Did you miss me?”

Xantha pouted at him.

“Nope.”

Jaune fondly smiled back.

“Well then, I suppose you won't mind if i-“

He turned as if to leave.

“No!”

Xantha grabbed his arm and began to drag him over to Verdell's cabin. She knocked on the door with insistence.

“Oi! You two! Open up!”

Instead of Verdell, the door opened to show Tawn's slightly miffed face.

“What is it Xantha, we...”

Her face quickly morphed to reflect her gasp of shock before her eyes began to water.

“Jaaaaaaauuuuuunnnneeeee!”

Tawn leapt at Jaune like Xantha had before her. Properly braced this time, Jaune succeeded in remaining upright, but Tawn’s flying leap left her glomped onto Jaune's chest, legs wrapped around him.

“Well then Jaune, in you go.”

Xantha began to steer Jaune into the cabin, his arms pinned to his side by his sister's hug. When Verdell saw him her response was more subdued, a fond smile and a gentle embrace, but the glint in her eyes revealed there was no less excitement from her than the other two.

“Welcome back Jaune. Has your training been fun?”

Jaune gave a short bark of laughter.

“Fun is the wrong word sis, but I appreciate it. Like the new clothes?”

Xantha succeeded in peeling Tawn off him to reveal the new threads.

“They're certainly more... Formal than I was expecting. I more expected you to show up in either messy rags or some form of armour.”

Jaune gave a wry smile.

“Well, you'd have been right a few hours ago. The clothes I took with me were a wreck by the end, but I got these out of it, so no biggie.”

He plonked himself down on Verdell’s couch and was immediately flanked by Verdell and Xantha, Tawn jumping on his lap to keep him sat there. Jaune quickly made himself as comfortable as he could, there was no way he was getting out of there, and since eventually Melina would hear about his return and come running over from the wall, he better get as much rest as he could.

“Tawn? Can you move? My leg has fallen asleep.”

Tawn only responded by turning and giving Jaune a grin.

“I guess that's a no.”

The four had been sat on the couch for an hour or so, Verdell had restarted the film she and Tawn had been watching. It wasn't really Jaune, or Xantha’s, cup of tea, but the film wasn’t the important bit.

Jaune enjoyed seeing his sisters again, but that sensation of not-belonging had yet to abate. He found his brain slipping into its standard thoughts of the next day training, rather than thinking of his family.

A knocking on the door of the cabin had Xantha scrabbling to open it. Through the doorframe they could see Phos' chest and legs, but the short opening forced him to bend down to look in.

“Hello girls, hope you don't mind, but I need to borrow Jaune for a while, he's got to keep up with his training. This visit isn't all fun and games.”

With an ease that surprised his sisters, Jaune smoothly lifted Tawn from his lap and deposited her beside him on the sofa, before getting up and making his way to the door. The sisters scrambled to follow Jaune and see what he was going to do.

“Easier session today Jaune.”

Phos gave Jaune a plate of sandwiches which he frantically devoured. Jaune hadn't eaten bread for months after all.

“You've only got three hours or so, so that's an hour of running, an hour of other exercise, and an hour of something new.”

The three sisters sat in shock as Jaune set to his running, he moved with an ease that they really had not expected from what they knew of him. Jaune himself felt cumbersome and uncomfortable exercising in his new clothes, evidently he would need to get used to them.

As the minutes dragged by the beat of Jaune's footsteps maintained a perfectly regular tattoo as he pounded around the central square of the area. Aurum watched his son's efforts from the window of the big house’s upper floor, a small smile snuck into his face and he turned away, satisfied.

Eventually the running came to an end and his siblings were once again surprised at Jaune's efforts with the rest of his exercises. Now with access to proper equipment, as opposed to just rocks, the weights inflicted on Jaune were obvious and frankly overkill. The sweat that seeped across his face only increased as the session continued.

Finally it was over, and with a crash Jaune set the final weight aside.

After giving Jaune some time to recover, Phos helped him to his feet and led him to one of the sparring rings.

“Given your progress recently, I have decided to step things up a little. From now on you will occasionally practice hand to hand with me. This still comes second to building your physique up, but the muscle memory can never be made early enough. Take a stance.”

Jaune tried his best to mimic the stance he has seen Melina use in the past, but of course he wasn't particularly good at it.

“The Soul Dragon Army Arts? A decent enough foundation I suppose. Mistralian styles would fit your build better than Atlesian or Vacuan. The SDAA was created around thirty years before the Great War by Emperor Tamashi Jogi of the Soul Dragon Empire of Mistral, they were designed to be a highly offensive style of basic martial art to be taught to soldiers in a few months. They combine aspects of many traditional martial arts styles, but are noticeably different and rather basic. However, because they are an amalgamation of other styles it is easy to work more complicated maneuvers into them later on. Your stance isn't bad, but move your right foot a little forward, bend your knees a little more, hand further up, keep that palm forwards and whatever you do, never form a fist with your fingers around your thumb. You'll just break your thumb if you punch.”

Phos maneuvered Jaune's limbs into the right places and stood before him, holding up his hand palm out.

“Now try to punch my hand.”

Jaune tensed his new muscles and shot his hand forward to meet Phos' Palm.

“Decent enough for what you did, but you made a rookie mistake. When you punch, where do you think the power comes from?”

Jaune looked confused.

“The arms?”

“Nope! Most of your power when punching, and this goes for most weapon attacks too, comes from the hips, waist and legs. When you punch, rotate your waist and push with your back leg. Sometimes you even want to step forward when doing so. Give it a shot.”

This time Jaune focused entirely on his waist as he swung forward. Just from the impact strength alone he could tell how much better this one was.

“You have learned your first lesson about fighting. You can never stop learning about this. There will never come a time when you know everything about fighting. It's a cruel world you're stepping into, reject only your ignorance and you may survive.”

As he was feeling generous, Phos decided not to use today’s unarmed training to pummel his apprentice into the ground. Probably a bad idea in view of his family. Also... Phos’ SDAA was a little out of practice. Phos hadn't been taught a martial art style by his master. It was survive at any cost, the style of dirty fighting. He expected Jaune to learn this too of course, he would be deeply disappointed if Jaune died because he didn't throw sand in something's eyes.

Instead Phos had Jaune attack him to the best of his ability. He may not be well practiced in SDAA, but he knew it, and years of experience could instruct on the basics, and point out flaws with ease.

A roundhouse kick from Jaune slammed into Phos' side. Enough to make the man grunt, but by no means injury-inducing.

“That's enough for today kid. Maybe tomorrow we’ll do more. We’ll stay here for three more days before heading back, so use your time wisely.”

That night, as Jaune lay in his old bed, and the once familiar creaks of the wooden walls echoed around him, he found himself agitated. The bed felt uncomfortable, the walls stifling. Glancing to his new coat hung at his door, he mused for a moment, before getting out of bed, opening the window and laying his bedroll on the floor. It would seem Jaune was already starting to become the kind of person who could survive in the Tourmaline Woods.

The next day Phos had arranged for Melina to join Jaune in his training, both to act as an example for what Jaune may eventually reach, and because Melina was far more skilled then he at actually practicing SDAA. He really needed to brush up on that soon.

SDAA was a military art, as such it was function over form. And this was why Melina currently had Jaune's arm bent behind his back and his neck in a chokehold.  
“You can stop now Melina. Jaune, did you enjoy that?”

Jaune, lying on the floor heaving for breath replied in a huffy tone.

“What do you think?”

Phos smirked.

“That's something else you need to learn, it's far better to avoid attacks than endure them. If you had been able to avoid Melina's grapple you may have been able to punish her for the attack. Attacking the knee perhaps, maybe the jugular or crippling the arm if you were confident. So, the most important part of fighting is not necessarily offense, it's important sure, and if you're skilled you can work it into the smallest opening, but the most important part is to be able to avoid getting hit.”

It made sense to Jaune. Pain was not fun.

“This means that this will be one of the most important skills I will teach you. Your footwork in a fight is always important, whether it's a fistfight, a swordfight or even a gunfight. It is a skill you can always use, and when you become skilled in it-“

Phos appeared to shimmer like a heat haze before moving in an instant to Jaune's other side.

“It can become almost, or as powerful, as a semblance in and of itself.”

Jaune enjoyed his time back in Gran Arbor. His sisters were affectionate, for the most part, his mother was happy to see him again, though he didn't see her much given she spent most of her time in the house, and he spent a lot of his getting beat on by Melina and Phos.  
As much as the training hurt, Jaune tending to retreat to his bedroll in the evenings with bruises and scrapes galore, even were he was sure was a fracture on one occasion, he would always be right as rain and ready to jump back in the next morning. Since Phos had pointed it out to him, Jaune really had noticed how quickly he seemed to heal. Maybe it was abnormal he supposed, maybe not, either way it was useful.

Melina was scared. Jaune was changing, fast, too fast. He was heading back off to brothers know where with that huntsman again tomorrow morning, but she had serious issues. So, for once, she was doing something she really did not like to do, talking to her dad.

“Hey... Dad?”

Aurum looked up from his desk. Big bruiser he may be, but decades of running a city should show that he was more than a big dumb fist.

“Melina! Ah... Why, are you here?”

Aurum was already feeling awkward. Melina was as bad in social situations as her father, and the two had spoken little, even compared to his other children.

“It's about Jaune.”

Aurum relaxed, familial worry he could understand.

“What is it?”

Melina wasn’t used to long speeches, but she couldn't stop herself once she started.

“Everything's going too fast! He's gone for six months and comes back looking completely different, even talking completely different. Are you sure that Phos guy is trustworthy? I've seen the weight and cardio training he's putting Jaune through, and not even the wall officers go that hard on their subordinates, and they're adults! And also, also! It seems that the training he's done here is **less** than what he's done while away! I-“

“Melina.”

Aurum cut off his daughter gently.

“Melina, I understand you’re worried, but look at Jaune.”

Aurum gestured out the window to where Jaune was attempting to dodge the attacks of a Phos who was heavily holding back. As they watched, a jab from Phos slammed into Jaune's left cheek and sent him skidding on his back across the training ground. Melina’s heart leapt into her throat as she went to leap down to her brother. Aurum put his hand on her shoulder to stop her.

“Watch.”

As the two looked down Jaune jumped to his feet. Not a tired climb up to standing, but an energetic jump up to standing before sinking back into a stance. His bruised and dirty face spread into a wide grin as he prepared to continue.

“Melina, when was the last time you saw Jaune that happy? Yes, his training may be hard, but he is undergoing it willingly. He's heading towards his dream, and this is probably his best chance to do so. I didn't give him over to Phos without checking the guy’s background. He certainly knows what he's doing. You'd be hard pressed to find a Huntsman, Rogue or otherwise, as skilled as him while also willing to take an apprentice on. So long as Jaune chooses to continue with this, I won't stop him. Who knows, maybe his path will lead him to ruin, maybe to glory, maybe some of both. But ultimately? It's his path to walk, and he chooses what way to go.”

**\--------------- Hunter Files --------------**

_The Soul Dragon Army Arts_

Mistral as a unified nation is a very recent thing, for most of its history Anima was instead dominated by three separate cultural groups. The harsh desert and grassy steppe of the eastern peninsula was populated by the Mori people since time immemorial, while the body of the continent was divided in half between settlers fleeing the conflicts of the Otembaer Golden Age and Grimm Crusades on Sanus, and the native people who give modern-day Mistral its unique cultural appearance.

While the Sanusian colonies were allied under the name 'Vent', they were formed by five federated nations, and the complex internal politics kept each individual colony restrained and squabbling. Meanwhile, the native people, under the banner of 'Kaze’ which they had been given by the settlers, were in a stage of constant war with each other. Powerful nations, and even region spanning empires, rose and fell, sometimes within a single lifetime.

It wasn't until 157 years ago that the nation of Kuchinashi, ruled by the Tamashi family, finally united the region of Kaze. By this stage the Mori people were already controlled by Kaze, but Vent was a problem. It wasn't until the next generation’s Emperor of Kaze, Jogi Tamashi, 116 years ago turned his gaze on Vent with the intent to conquer that he noticed a problem. Kaze had been splintered for so long, that the martial arts, and martial training, of the different warlord's armies were incredibly varied. So varied in fact, that the different military companies could barely work together, even if they were to ignore old grudges.

Thus, Jogi set to a five year study of the basic martial arts practiced across the continent, even including the archer arts of the Mori people. He drew similarities, complementary points and philosophies, from both the martial and conceptual views of the different styles. Finally he condensed what he had learned down to a simple but effective style of combat which was taught to the armies of Kaze for three years, during which time, people from different warlordships formed lasting bonds.

For the four years from 109 to 105 years ago Kaze's newly trained military assaulted the fortified emplacements of Vent, until in the late autumn of 33 BVT (Before Vytal Treaty), Tamashi Jogi became the first and only individual in known history to unite the complete continent of Anima under one rule. The Emperor moved his capital from Kuchinashi to the larger Mistral, and renamed his empire the Soul Dragon Empire of Mistral.

In Jogi's memoirs, he attributed his victory over Vent to four things: The skill of his generals, the dedication of his soldiers, the craftsmanship of his smiths and the unifying power of his, later dubbed, Soul Dragon Army Arts.

In the years since Jogi's success, the SDAA have become an almost universal foundation for military martial arts. Modern day experts and historians frequently label Jogi as ‘The Master of Modern Martial Arts’ and his creation is taught in Huntsman Academies, Atlesian military campuses and even normal self defence classes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, my name must be Macnimara, because I'm an asshole. I won't deny I probably should have written this stuff earlier, but well... This is an area of this story that's more of a slog before the fun stuff and I have the attention span of a laden African swallow.
> 
> Now another thing, little shameless plug. Instead of writing like I should have been I have been working on a different RWBY related project, which (when in a releasable state) will be published on the YouTube channel 'Combat Ready Studios', current home of the RWBY spinoff EDWS (Edelweiss). So, if my stories have in any way interested you, I really request you check that out. We also have a Discord at "https://discord.gg/hQYwAd6"  
> Just note that my stories on here have nothing really to do with what goes on in there.
> 
> **Current ranks in the Polls:**
> 
> Weapon:  
> • The Beasthunter Saif - 1  
> • The Beastcutter - 1  
> • The Burial Blade - 8  
> • The Chikage - 1  
> • The Rakuyo - 4
> 
> Firearm:  
> • The Hunter Pistol - 1  
> • The Evelyn - 9  
> • The Repeating Pistol - 1
> 
> Pairing  
> • Winter - 5  
> • Yang - 2  
> • Neo (aka Little Miss Happy-Go-Stabby) - 4  
> • Ruby - 1
> 
> The Evelyn and the burial blade are still in the lead. And a pink and brown horse is beginning to creep up on Winter. I will point out, that (as the mapped out plot already heavily involved Winter) even if she is surpassed, her and Jaune will still be close. On the other hand, given the enthusiasm, Neo will also be pretty major. But in those notes, I plan to call the Pairing poll after the next chapter. As I foresee two or three chapters at most before we begin to enter the arc that contains Winter.
> 
> You may have noticed that the Threaded Cane and Reiterpallasch have been dropped. From this chapter I will begin dropping the weapons with the lowest counts from the polls. At this rate, next episode, both non-evelyn guns and the Chikage/Saif will be dropped next chapter.
> 
> Voters for each poll
> 
> Weapons
> 
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Lagzal, Cegorach, Niho, N1njapanda15, Rogue_eL, REGIKING, Axccel, Ya Boy, MindsandMirrors.
> 
> Firearm:  
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Lagzal, Cegorach, Rogue_eL, Ya Boy, MindsandMirrors.
> 
> Pairing:  
> KnightGalavant, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Tango Mike, Lagzal, Cegorach, Niho, N1njapanda15, Nsss, Rogue_eL, D.L.N.Y, MindsandMirrors.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, Kudos and comments are always appreciated, and if you have interest feel free to vote in the polls, just please keep it to one entry per category.


	6. Creeperjack Forest 2: Six Months of All Work and All Play, Make Jaune A Buff Boy

Given the progress Jaune had made, Aurum relaxed his restrictions on Phos. It was now up to Jaune when he visited home, but Aurum still expected regular calls to prove he was ok.

Jaune's return to the Creeperjack Forest was more eventful than the last. For the first time Jaune actually observed Phos dispose of Grimm, if he could even be said to have seen it. It was a medium sized Beowolf pack, twenty-odd individuals, three of them alpha grade, but Phos mowed through them like they weren't even there, he didn't even draw Ignited Ashes or Embers Burst, just used his hands to – and there's no better word for this – disassemble them. Less than twenty seconds. Less than fifteen Jaune would wager, and all while carrying a kid on his back.

Other then the quick excitement of that engagement, the journey was oddly peaceful again. If not for a quick search on his father's scroll during the break, Jaune would have been beginning to doubt Phos’ claims about the dangers of the woods. Apparently the woods were less dangerous than they used to be, as, thanks to Huntsmen, the Grimm population had yet to recover from the collateral damage of the Great War.

By all accounts, Jaune was glad to return to the Creeperjack Forest. The sound and smell of the trees was calming to him, and it allowed him to get stuck back in to his training. Jaune had been shocked to find that he was actually missing the more intensive sessions he was used to while in Gran Arbor. His body had grown used to the strain and expected such a challenge, and oh boy did it recieve one.

For about an hour a day now, Phos would go at Jaune with unarmed combat, and unlike Gran Arbor, he wasn't holding back. Jaune would leave those sessions a bruised and swollen mess, but for every ten punches to the face, or kicks to the back, there would be one he dodged by a hair’s breadth. For every hundred throws or swept legs, there would be an epiphany of footwork, and those sparks of achievement left a brutalised Jaune grinning at the end of every day.

Phos was both proud and constantly worried about what he was putting Jaune through. The boy’s progress was astounding, and Phos knew his body could take the strain it was being put under, but he really hated whaling on a kid. To be sure he wasn't causing true harm, Phos was using a technique similar to the herbal medicines he had been giving Jaune for the rest of his training. It was a bath.

Each night Phos would fill a large carved out log with hot water, bunches of herbs and, importantly, the blood of Grimm. Grimm blood, much like Grimm flesh, was frowned upon by most people, and for good reason. However, for those very same reasons, it was very useful for Phos’ purposes. The bath sped up Jaune's, already ridiculous, natural healing, but was also slowly tempering his body. He wouldn't get iron skin or anything like that, he'd remain a squishy human, which was probably for the best, but instead injury would affect him less. It's a hard effect to quantify as, for reasons that shouldn't really become common knowledge, it was an ability further from humanity and closer to something else than Phos was truly comfortable with.

The preparation for this bath was difficult and time consuming. Phos was lucky Jaune was as invested as he was and thus was not liable to take secret breaks, as Phos had to take advantage of the time Jaune was performing exercises he knew well to gather food, herbs and Grimm blood. Honestly the timetable was probably just as straining for Phos as it was for Jaune.

For six long months Phos kept this punishing routine active. By the end, Jaune had blown his expectations well out of the water. Jaune's dogged determination had seen him through fall after fall, and it was showing. He had grown, in height and mass. A few months from his tenth birthday, Jaune had now been training with Phos for a full year, and Phos was ready to move him along.

That night as the green light filtering through the canopy of the Creeperjack Forest Bergen to dim, and the two sat down at the campfire for a dinner of Grimm, deer and the fruit from a nearby apple tree Phos had found, the master decided to address his student.

“Well Jaune, it's been about half a year since our visit to Gran Arbor. Your hand to hand isn't great, but it is passable. I reckon you'd be able to hold your own against most low level thugs, provided you aren't mobbed. Given the size and weight difference, that's quite the achievement.”

Jaune looked up momentarily from devouring his meal.

“Really? I'd never know it.”

Along with his growing fitness, something else had begun to become more evident. Sass. Phos wasn’t actually sure whether the sass was due to growing confidence, or a hidden lack of it. Phos didn't mind Jaune's more snarky way of talking but he was worrying about something else, schooling. Jaune and the other members of the Arc family had alternated between homeschooling and a local primary. While he had actually been ahead of most kids in education before, a year of learning purely via the school of 'Forest of Violence and Potential Scary Death’ had put a damper on that. Luckily, the next place Phos planned to take Jaune would be well able to get around that.

Sable Down. The former capital of Vale’s province of Highpeak, was situated high in the Vale mountains, north of the Tourmaline Woods. Highpeak was originally a mining region, the Vale mountains containing valuable metal and dust, and while that was still very much it's main purpose, much of Vale’s heavy industry had migrated there since the former industrial heartland of Vale, the Palisade, had been mostly decommissioned in the postwar population boom. Not to mention that Sable Down was home to the Gipfel School of Higher Learning. If Huntsmen had Beacon, academics had the Gipfel School.

While far from the level of some of the prodigies within Gipfel's walls, Jaune was talented enough to learn there, and Phos had at least two favours with teachers that he could call on.

Of course, he had another reason to go there, Sable Down held one of Vale's four largest Rogues Association branches. There was the head office in Vale, and then the three sub-offices in Sable Down, Douron Hall and Hammerhold. Once Jaune's next phase of training was over, a task that would probably take another year and a half, maybe a year if he was lucky, Phos intended to register him immediately with the association. Also, well... Though not desperate, Phos was beginning to grow a little strapped for cash. He’d been taking monthly forays to a nearby (or relatively nearby) village for supplies, and he now had essentially taken a year’s break from work while still buying stuff. He needed to take some jobs to build up his reserves.

“Well Jaune, I’d say we’ll work here till your birthday in about four months, then we’re going somewhere new.”

The next day, as the two moved into the ground where they performed their spars, the leaf litter pushed to the side and ground to a powder by the thumping of feet, Phos surprised Jaune by throwing him a pair of tough sticks.

“Given what's coming next, you need to get used to fighting armed as well as unarmed. Later you'll get to choose your weapon, but all Order members start with the same thing, and those sticks are a good enough substitute.”

Normal wood would just snap slamming against Phos’ body, even without aura, but the Tourmaline Woods had several breeds of tree made of sterner stuff.

“From today I'll be teaching you the basics of using those, however, first I'm going to assess your unarmed progress. This time I'm going to restrict myself and not punish you overly... Provided you give it your all.”

Jaune threw the sticks to the side of the ring and sank into the stance. It had become second nature over the year, and he was comfortable as you could be with it.

“Begin”

Jaune began with a snapping jab at Phos’ face, the older man weaved to the side and went to grab Jaune's arm. The arm was quickly yanked back and a foot hooked the back of Phos’ leg. Taking a step forward to adjust to the instability the attack to his leg caused, Phos shoulder checked Jaune and sent him skidding backwards. Jaune’s skid was quickly brought under control and he leapt forward, entering into a flurry of blows that Phos both blocked and responded in kind. Phos smirked slightly, Jaune's strength was beginning to show through, the punches he blocked on his forearms smarting briefly.

Jaune was smirking internally. This was a chance he wouldn't have again, he was thankful for Phos and happy at his progress, sure, but that didn't mean he actually enjoyed getting beat into next Tuesday. This was his chance to finally smack Phos around... Possibly. While his master was distracted with the exchange of blows, Jaune grabbed his forearm after Phos blocked, and he yanked backwards. Phos’ leg crashed into Jaune's shin, sending the huntsman off balance. Expecting an easy assault on the ground Jaune was left completely open as Phos grabbed him and used the motion of his fall to throw Jaune head over tit across the clearing and into one of the woven branch walls.

“Oh Crap!”

Phos had been holding back, but faced with the actual threat of being taken down his body had reacted reflexively. He sprinted across to where Jaune was slumped against the wood, panicked as he could be.

Jaune was coughing.

“Damn old man... Couldn't go easy for ten minutes could you.”

Phos’ fear was assuaged by Jaune's grin.

“But for just a moment there... I had you.”

Phos sighed

“You're going to be the death of me kid, you really are. Right! Up and ready, with the sticks this time.”

Once the pair had returned to the grounds Phos reached into his coat and pulled something out. It was a large knife, twisted and partially stained, its appearance was slightly macabre, like the sort of knife you'd expect to excavate from an old Akopatlakahn temple where it was once used to practice human sacrifice, not find within a Huntsman's pocket.

“This is the weapon you shall learn first.”

With a sharp noise and a violent twist, the blade split in two, and the two sticks Jaune had been given became more clear.

“These are the Blades Of Mercy. Like all other weapons of the order, their design is old beyond measure. These were historically the weapons of a branch of my order called the Crows, and the weapon's function was exactly as its name suggests. The Crows were the peacekeepers of the order, charged with the punishment of those who broke the order’s tenants. Their blades brought mercy to the lost.”

Phos began to swing, the blades tracing silver trails as they sung through the air.

“They are an elegant weapon, to make an inelegant purpose less so. The reason you shall learn these is in your size. You are merely nine, far from fully grown. What to you now is a sizable blade, may be but a dagger to you in the future. At twelve you shall choose your main weapon, but you will not hold it till fourteen at the earliest. In that time, the Blades of Mercy shall be at your side, and they will remain there till you die. You must know them like no other. Now-“

Phos stilled.

“Attempt to mimic the motions I performed, your twigs are crude in comparison, but you are far from ready to properly wield a blade as dangerous as this.”

Jaune attempted his best to follow Phos’ example, but the motions felt stilted and off.

“Better than it could have been I suppose, but far from good. Try again and focus on how your body feels.”

Jaune attempted again, and though his arms seemed to brush at the sensation, it slipped away.

“Stop. I let you try again to see if you could see the issue on your own. You have spent six months learning how to fight, how to move, and yet the moment you take a weapon your legs become stiff and unmoving. Why do you think I taught you your footwork!? Use it!”

This time rather than copying Phos motion for motion, Jaune ran through similar forms of the SDAA, incorporating the sticks into the motion. As he did, that feeling of correctness spread through his body.

“Yes! You see? Fighting isn't just going through motions, you have to know it! My basis wasn’t the SDAA, so my style is going to be different from yours, what you have to do is learn and incorporate compatible parts into what you know. Pumping out cutout copycats of a style may be something certain schools do, but if you build up your own form, that uniqueness, that match to who you are, will make it so much more powerful.”

Jaune spent the rest of the sparring session shadowfighting with the sticks as Phos watched. Giving pointers to Jaune as he moved. While Phos’ attacks had been flowing and sweeping, complimenting the throw and grapple based martial art he had first learned and the swings of his heavy axe, both of which required utilising a heavy object’s momentum, Jaune's also contained sudden stabs and stops. The SDAA was full of feints and lightning fast attacks, and those were transferred to this new style of fighting.

The next day Phos interrupted Jaune before he could start his daily training.

“Jaune? Here.”

Phos gently placed his Blades into Jaune's outstretched hand.

“You will need to become accustomed to it, so you are to spend the next hour while I'm out observing it. Learn what you can, become familiar, but most of all be careful. I can't explain why, but any injury from those will not heal as easily as those you normally get. I repeat _be careful_ , I shouldn't really be letting you even touch them yet.”

The Blades were heavier than Jaune expected. Now from close up he could see that what he had thought were stains were nothing of the sort, they were colourations within the metal itself. The two blades seemed to writhe against each other. It took about ten minutes, but Jaune eventually discovered how to separate the two. The metallic chink as they separated reverberated around the clearing. Jaune stood from the log he was sat on and went through a quick test motion of what fighting with the weighty things would be like. The blades didn't seem to pass, but rather cut through, the air, they seemed to hum in pleasure as they moved around. Jaune could begin to see the elegant beauty that could be found in such an initially crude appearing implement.

Returning to the log, Jaune began to play his fingers over the blades, smooth as a mirror, yet lacking shine, their dull radiance seemed to capture and trap the light, leaving them with a slight glow that may or may not have really been there.

The cracking of branches nearby made Jaune look up in surprise, the obvious answer would be that it was Phos, but if Phos was anything it was quiet. He didn't barrel his way through obstacles, he slid around them. No, something else was happening.

Jaune got to his feet and moved to the center of the clearing, eyeing the shaking wall from which the crashes emerged. With eerie slowness, a black mass extricated itself from the foliage. In the unnatural silence the two observed each other.

The one saw a quick snack, a small thing, barely worth considering a threat. The other saw a primal fear of humanity, and yet his mind overrode his natural instinct. It was a Beowolf, a young one judging by its lack of additional plating and simple markings, but over twice his height, packed with steely muscle and bone, and perfectly able to kill a grown man.

Jaune's foot shifted slightly and the sound of a twig snapping rang through the air, shattering the silence that seemed to have held the clearing in time. With a gutteral roar, the monster took two steps and leapt at Jaune, mouth wide and paws outstretched.

If Jaune knew more how to fight maybe it would be a glorious victory, if Jaune was stronger maybe it would have lasted a minute or two, but in reality it was over in a single short, violent instant.

The creature slowly slumped over forward as its fleshy weight settled on the child, forcing his body to the floor. Blood, red and hot, oozed from his left ear and his right arm. His hands were pinned with him below the body and slick with hot fluid, the blades of Phos' knives buried deep within the creature's breast.

Phos returned to the clearing to see black smoke beginning to rise from the corpse in the center and he panicked. Darting forward, with one hand he flung the dead Beowolf several meters through the air until its body hit the trees with a dull thwack and the splintering of bone. Phos picked up Jaune, the boy's eyes wide and staring, but his heart still beating and breath in his lungs. The Grimm's claws had torn a small triangular chunk from his left ear, and four deep gouges into his right arm. Jaune appeared to be in shock, but Phos did what he could, and bandaged Jaune’s wounds.

Several hours later, as the sun was beginning to set, Jaune came to, and was hit by a wave of pain.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.”

Phos rushed over.

“Easy kid, easy. How’re you feeling.”

Like I just went a round with dad.

“I doubt you would still be alive if you did that.”

“I'm surprised I’m alive right now.”

Phos began to rub circles on Jaune's back.

“Well you are. And kid? Be proud of what you did today, few kids three years your senior could take out one of those alone. And you had only been training with weapons for a day. I'm sorry, since no Grimm had come through the barrier all year I got careless, it won't happen again.”

Jaune was quick to assure Phos.

“No, don't worry, you couldn't have done anything about it anyway.”

Phos gently ruffled Jaune's hair.

“Well, if you're feeling up to it.”

Phos made a hand gesture towards the slowly disintegrating corpse of the Beowolf.

“It is traditional to have an apprentice consume their first kill.”

**\--------------- Hunter Files --------------**

_Sable Down and Highpeak_

Sable Down is a fairly large city nowadays, nestled on the slopes of a mountain, the surrounding territory means it is virtually invulnerable to anything bar flying Grimm, but almost totally reliant on outside sources for food. The city was started as a mining outpost over a century ago after the Dust veins in the main Valean area began to become exhausted. Though the original mine has long since dried up, enough Dust and metal is found in the region that the city, and the rest of the Highpeak region, has remained bustling to this day.

The province was once ruled by the Gipfel family, an old offshoot of the Winchesters of Grey Crags in the days before the Winchester branch took control and the line was still the Chesters. The Gipfel family always hated the view of Highpeak as some backwards frontier wasteland, and so, approximately seventy years before the Great war, Lord Lecturn Gipfel founded the Gipfel School of Higher Learning. This was the first dedicated university in Vale and, for thirty years, was the only body other than the crown's personal school that was legally qualified to issue degrees.

The Gipfel School has maintained its position of excellence ever since, and since the dissolution of feudalism after the war, now includes the old castle. The Gipfel family are still held in high regard within Highpeak and, though the days of their lordship are long gone, they still continue to run many of the events they once did.

After the war there was an expansion of the city of Vale to contain all the waves of children born in the postwar boom and people who had fled other cities during the fighting. Some left because the cities were destroyed, some just abandoned their homes for the safety of the capital. This expansion resulted in the capital cities of two of Vale’s former provinces, The Palisade and Seaboard, becoming engulfed into Vale.

While Seaboard was mainly based around fishing, shipping and other ocean-based tasks, The Palisade was Vale’s industrial heartland, and it takes special people to be willing to live amongst smokestacks and thumping anvils. This meant that Vale wanted its industry out of the city. There were two potential locations they could relocate to, Grey Crags, or Highpeak. Both mountainous provinces, both nearer the resources, both desirous of the economic boon that would come from producing most of Vale's products. Eventually Highpeak won the honour, mostly because the Winchesters of Grey Crags were unrepentant, penny-pinching assholes who held on to way too much power after the end of feudalism, and had managed to piss off pretty much every craftsman moving from the Palisade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooooo! I posted quickly! Probably too quickly, but you'll find my interest burns hot and fast. I have to throw out chapters when I can or otherwise nothing will happen.
> 
> Again, the little shameless plug. I have been working on a different RWBY related project, which (when in a releasable state) will be published on the YouTube channel 'Combat Ready Studios', current home of the RWBY spinoff EDWS (Edelweiss). So, if my stories have in any way interested you, I really request you check that out. We also have a Discord at "https://discord.gg/hQYwAd6"  
> Just note that my stories on here have nothing really to do with what goes on in there.
> 
> Current ranks in the Polls:
> 
> Weapon:  
> • The Burial Blade - 8  
> • The Rakuyo - 5
> 
> Firearm:  
> • The Evelyn - 10
> 
> Pairing  
> • Winter - 5  
> • Neo (aka Little Miss Happy-Go-Stabby) - 5
> 
> Now that I've begun cutting down entries, the Evelyn has been permanently locked in. Jaune will have the Evelyn.  
> Meanwhile the Burial Blade keeps its lead. Now that we've reached two options, they will stay to be voted on until the weapon is forged.
> 
> Meanwhile however, the pairing poll poses a little dilemma. As I come to the point where the poll closes, Neo has shot up the rankings quickly to tie with Winter. Now, as the mapped out plot already heavily involves Winter, and she was the first character with a lot of support, she will be being paired. The next question is, what to do with Neo? There are as I see it two options. Either I try and make a wholesome relationship involving both of them and Jaune, or Neo becomes a very close, but totally platonic friend. Up to the readers.
> 
> I have no idea how I'd balance Military girl Winter and Criminal McStabby Neo, but eh, maybe I can make it work.
> 
> Voters for each poll
> 
> Weapons
> 
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Lagzal, Cegorach, Niho, N1njapanda15, Rogue_eL, REGIKING, Axccel, Ya Boy, MindsandMirrors, Sir_Wobblefish.
> 
> Firearm:  
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Lagzal, Cegorach, Rogue_eL, Ya Boy, MindsandMirrors, Sir_Wobblefish.
> 
> Pairing:  
> KnightGalavant, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Tango Mike, Lagzal, Cegorach, Niho, N1njapanda15, Nsss, Rogue_eL, D.L.N.Y, MindsandMirrors, Sir_Wobblefish.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, Kudos and comments are always appreciated, and if you have interest feel free to vote in the wespon poll. Just please keep it to one entry per person.


	7. Tourmaline Woods 1: Aspenbairn on the Wend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning - This is a _Blood_ borne fic.

The summer mornings were muggy here, Jaune found himself dreaming of the brief period around eight months prior when the ground held a thin coat of frost and the air would cool him down. It was late August, verging on September. The school year had begun, and the world was still in sweatbox mode. Jaune pushed his way through the branches to the spring and slid in, he'd long since stopped wearing clothes to bed in summer, too hot, and he only really had the one set. The water was cool and perfect, and Jaune could feel the stickiness from the night wash away. As he looked into the water Jaune charted the changes that had happened to him so far. Nearing a year and a third in this life, his body had begun to grow. It was an odd fact of biology on Remnant, that those who used their bodies a lot, grew a lot taller than those who didn't. Jaune hadn't shot up, if he had he's have been worried for puberty, but he felt taller. Muscle wise, his growth was more obvious.

Unlike his father, Jaune's muscles didn't bulge out from his body in steely bundles the size of his head, in fact, his overall Silhouette was still pretty lanky. No, Jaune's body had grown solid. Every muscle was tough and wiry, as though made of steel cable strung beneath the skin. His fat had dissolved away, to leave definition and clear lines. Jaune's elation months ago as his abs finally reached a defined six-pack had been a source of teasing from Phos for several weeks.

His face looked older, it looked like that of a young teen, not a child, and his skin shone with a healthy glow through the travel stains and dirt that he could never quite remove in the clear water. His hair had also undergone a change, it was brushing the base of his shoulder blades and honestly Jaune thought that was far enough. Any more and it’d be getting in the way. However, long exposure to the sun had begun to change it’s tint. Once a golden blonde like a dandelion, it had faded dramatically, now more resembling ivory than gold. Jaune didn't mind the colour change, his juvenile dreams of a gold and white knight had long been replaced by becoming Phos' successor.

His left ear was still missing a chunk from the incident, and four dark scars marred his pale arm, but Jaune didn't mind. If anything he was thankful for them, they were mementos in a way, a reminder of his first victory, and, in Jaune's personal opinion, they didn't look that bad.

Phos had been open with Jaune about how he was hiding some things until Jaune was ready, and that was fine. As far as Jaune had come, he realised that he was still very much a kid, and that some things should not be told to kids.

Jaune dunked his head under the crystal water and let it play across his scalp, his hair floating in a yellowish cloud about him, before he finally pulled himself from the spring. His fighting had increased by leaps and bounds, he still had yet to best Phos once, but that was unsurprising, the size difference alone was a drawback. Phos however assured Jaune that, if not for the size difference, most people outside of trained Huntsmen and soldiers would have trouble dealing with him... If you discounted aura. While Jaune had not fought with the Blades of Mercy since his first kill, he had studiously practiced with his sticks every day since.

While he hadn’t fought with the Blades, he did actually have several more kills under his belt. Once a week, Phos would bring him out of the clearing, and set him up with a Class One Grimm. Most of the time it was another Beowolf, of varying age, but occasionally it was a Creep instead. Each time Phos would give him a pair of knives similar in length to the Blades, Jaune didn't understand why these were any safer than the Blades of Mercy, but he guessed Phos must have had his reasons.

Jaune's escapades fighting these Grimm had not always been successful, especially early on. Phos kept having to save Jaune from an early death at the fangs of overly aggressive beowolves. But recently he was growing more used to how they fought. The steep learning curve had resulted in a few more scrapes, most healed without incident, but he did have a small scar on his other arm now as well, not from the creep he'd been fighting, but the tree it had thrown him against.

Jaune dressed as he mused, this often happened in the mornings, as Jaune used this period of calm to relax and process what had happened the day or week before. Pushing through the branches back to the clearing, Jaune was surprised to see Phos packing up his sleeping gear.

“What’s going on?”

Phos turned to Jaune and gave him an odd look.

“Don't you realise what day it is?”

Jaune thought for a moment but came up blank.

“No?”

Phos blinked a few times.

“Jaune... It's your birthday. It's the day we move away from the Creeperjack Forest.”

What? Jaune quickly counted the days and... Oh, yeah. It was. But leave? Jaune had grown pretty attached to his little home in the woods.

“Do we really have to go?”

Phos sat on one of the logs and beckoned Jaune over, pulling out the Blades of Mercy as he did so.

“Kid, your next step is learning how to make a pair of these for yourself, and you can't do that here. Besides, kid, yesterday you tracked down and killed a Beowolf on your own. While not amazing yet, your tracking skills are passable, and you've hit a stage where, without a real weapon, further training will only harm you. It's time to move on.”

Begrudgingly Jaune moved to pack up the few things he had with him. He looked around the little clearing with some melancholy, the pile of rocks from training, his little lean-to, Phos’, the firepit... Ok there wasn't really much there, but Jaune had grown rather fond.

“Our trip is rather longer than the quick runs to Gran Arbor, it'll take at least three days. We’ll try to stop in villages in the evenings, but we may have to sleep out in the wilds. This is dangerous, far more so than the area around the Forest. The dangerous Grimm that were near here noticed my presence months ago and left the area, on this run we won't be so lucky."

“Are you carrying me again?”

Phos gave him a look.

“Do you think you can keep up with me yet?”

Jaune picked up his bag and slung it on his back.

“No... Just, well, I'm heavier than I was.”

Phos proceeded to walk over, grab Jaune by the collar of his coat and pick him up with one hand.

“I think I'll be fine.”

With a sweep of his arm Phos transferred Jaune onto his back and moved towards the barrier. As they left Jaune looked back at the clearing, he wondered when he'd next see it.

“Hold on to your hat!”

Phos took off through the woods at breakneck speed, feet pounding on layers of moss and leaves, untouched by human feet for years. In the distance Jaune could hear a roar growing, getting louder and louder until Phos found himself on the bank of a large river. Though Jaune didn't know for sure, he guessed that this was the Wend, a river that entered the sea in the town of Crooked Shores, a few miles south east of Gran Arbor.

Phos changed direction, and began pounding upstream along the river. Occasionally within the waves or on a bank Jaune would see Boardil, a semi aquatic variety of Class 2 Grimm that looked like a crocodile had got freaky with the mother of all wild boars. Tusked heads would occasionally snap at the two as they went past, but Boardil were notoriously lazy out of water, and so they mostly ignored the Grimm. On one or two occasions Phos did have to stamp a head in, when a young individual thought that the older man would be easy pickings.

Phos continued to follow the river all day, the rushing water almost lulling Jaune to sleep. On one occasion Phos actually snuck into a tree and hid. In the water below them a large black shadow drifted downstream. Phos actually put his hand over Jaune's mouth to stop him from speaking until the shadow was gone.

“That was a Boardil Admiral Jaune, a Class 4 Grimm. While I would be able to beat it, I don't want to risk it while protecting you.”

Also encountered on their pass up the river, was another Huntsman. This was the first non-Phos person Jaune had encountered in weeks, and the encounter was over in about twenty seconds, with a nod off acknowledgement from each person. Apparently this river was used as an easy pass through the woods, as the thin foliage of the banks made it easier to traverse than the undergrowth.

Eventually, as the sun was setting, the pair pulled up into a small village nestled on the river. Large wooden palisades circled the village, and sturdy wooden portcullises blocked off Grimm access from the water.  
The gate in the wall had a man stood on guard above it. His armour was ramshackle and scratched, but he carried himself with a weariness and wariness that indicated experience and intelligence. Among the many things Jaune had learned, was that provided it was structurally sound, an old worn piece of gear was often tougher than a fancy brand new piece.

“’Lo! What's the name of this village?”

The man had seen Phos from afar and tensed, ready to sound the alarm, but the call made him relax somewhat.

“Aspenbairn on the Wend my man! State your business!”

Phos crouched to let Jaune hop off before standing and addressing the man once more.

“Overnight lodgings for myself and my Apprentice here, some warm food if you have it, and news if you have that.”

The man squinted at Phos' weapons.

“Names and occupation?”

Phos began to rummage in his pockets.

“Phos Argentum and Jaune Arc... Got it! Here's my Association ID. The kid doesn't have one yet.”

Phos threw up a small blue card, though the association put IDs on people's Scrolls like many other organizations, the cards were useful for things like this, as many people were a lot more comfortable throwing a semi-disposable plastic slip to people than their expensive, fragile-ish Scrolls. Though by no means a requirement to enter a village, an association ID was a well recognised proof of identity, and was useful for assuaging doubt.

“All seems to be in order."

The man ducked to the side and wound down the door, which Jaune now noticed opened like a drawbridge.

“The name’s Silvron Micol, if you want lodging, head to the Twisted Stump. Central building, town hall, tavern, Inn and association building all in one. I recommend the pork, avoid the lamb, oh, and don't get the Black Barrel unless you want to spend tomorrow with the mother of all hangovers.”

Phos thanked the man and led Jaune forward. The Twisted Stump was a wooden building, fresh hewn timbers still leaking sap in its walls. As Phos and Jaune entered they were hit with a wave of spiced air from the kitchens and both began salivating, ten months of plain fare would do that to you. The room wasn’t particularly large, six tables and a bar made up all the seating, but the place seemed lively, a trio of guards singing drunkenly in the corner, farmers swapping tales at the bar, and a pair of Huntsmen gorging themselves on large plates of food.

Behind the oaken bar was a middle aged lady with red hair brushing her shoulders, she was cleaning a glass tankard with an old cloth, but noticed the pair enter almost immediately and called out to them.

“Hey! What can I get you!”

Phos moved a little closer before replying, he didn't want to shout across the room.

“A room for the night for me and my charge. Also some food for the evening, the guy at the gate recommended the pork.”

The woman put the mug down and tossed the pair a key with a tag attached.

“There ya go, through that door and up the stairs, second on the right, I'll get your food in a moment. Anything to wet the throat?”

“Something nonalcoholic for the kid, milk'd be good and... Hmm... I'll have some of the Black Barrel.”

The woman looked at him for a moment.

“If you're sure. Just don't cause any trouble later. Take a seat, I'll take you your stuff soon, you can pay then.”

The two took one of the empty tables, the warm, lively room had Jaune slightly on edge after the age in the wild, but it was a pleasant place.

“I like it here.”

Phos frowned a little.

“Jaune, never decide whether you like a place or not that quickly. People like us tend to move a lot, you'll see hundreds of little towns, and you'll see tens of them vanish. On our run today we passed three places where there used to be a village I knew. They'd been destroyed so thoroughly you could barely tell they existed in the first place.

This town... I doubt it’s more than a few months old, everything big is new. When a town goes, the survivors grab what they can and move elsewhere. I wouldn't be surprised if some of the villagers here have had to abandon their home twice already.”

Jaune was silent for a moment, he saw where Phos was coming from, but he didn't like the rather nihilistic outlook, don't get attached to places because you'll just lose them. Luckily he was brought out of the thought by two large plates and a pair of mugs coming to the table. Jaune barely noticed Phos fork over a few Lien chips, he was more mesmerised by his plate. Thick slices of pork, cooked to perfection in a sticky Apple sauce, fresh mashed potatoes and carrots, a far cry from dry spit roasted side of boarbatusk. As soon as the lady left, Jaune attacked his meal with a ferocity rarely seen outside of Grimm. The portions were large, but even so, Jaune demolished his in record speed.  
Chuckling at his apprentice’s antics, Phos was more subdued in his dining, this Black Barrel was gooooood. Incredibly strong but good.

Leaning back in his chair, Phos listened to the hubbub of the room, before focusing on the drunk singing from the off-duty guards in the corner. As they swapped songs to a rather bawdy number about a traveler in Mistral Phos couldn't help himself from grinning, it was a song his master had been fond of years ago, like most tavern chants it wasn't particularly musical. They weren't particularly loud, bit Phos amused himself with their words as he ate.

“Ooohhhh! Old Red Eye was a hoary swine,  
who roamed the Mistral snow!  
And never and never a village he find,  
That he left a maiden cold!  
His deeds sang wide cross the frozen north,  
of a geezer who'd flirt above his purse!  
Till one day he went down Wendleson way  
And he glimpsed a sight in gold  
Glenmore Hare, that maiden fair  
Left Old Red Eye out cold!

The man was struck, a vow he made  
To woo that golden girl  
But that girl was not a simple prize  
And in this the flirt would fail  
Old Red Eye of the thundering voice  
Did sing for his lovely dame  
But young Glenmore ignored his ploys  
And the lust he sang of her  
And the golden girl in silken song  
Called the guardsman weak and frail

Ooohhhh! Old Red Eye was a tired old man  
With a legend long since gone  
Tens of men now roamed his lands  
His pretty wenches gone  
And all for the love of Glenmore Hare  
The golden girl of the golden hair  
And after years the girl did turn  
And tell the aging fan-“

Phos, having drunk the entire tankard of Black Barrel by now, and slightly tipsy for once, stood up from his chair and belted out-

“You spent all this time to win my hand  
But you fell for a pretty man!”

The Inn was quiet for a moment before the guards and the barmaid burst out laughing. Old Red Eye was a real guy who travelled around Northern Mistral seducing people, and eventually a village got so pissed, one of them dressed as a woman for ten years, getting Old Red Eye infatuated enough he wouldn't give up, before revealing the whole thing when Red eye was too old to go back to his ways.

It was a fairly popular drinking song, mostly because it was discordant enough as is that being drunk didn't make it sound much worse. The three guards all moved over from their table to Phos and Jaune’s.

“Oi geezer! Ya ain't half bad.”

Phos never got really drunk, his body was actually pretty strong against alcohol. Even tipsy, he was far from out of it.

“Thanks my good men! Call me Phos.”

“Well’en Fos, the name's Bramble, these two be Mire and Shale, pleased ta meecha.”

Bramble was a thin man in similar armour to Silvron from the gate, and his hair was a wild thicket of deep green. Now that they were closer Phos could see that Mire was actually female, it was hard to tell from a distance, her short black hair not giving any indication of her sex. Shale was large and had a deep voice, he was bald and tanned. And completely smashed.

The songs continued for an hour or two. Eventually the two Huntsmen also joined in, apparently they were D-Rank rogues, hired to protect the town for a month. Candleson and Vellum were their names, and apparently the two had been friends since childhood.

Jaune found himself talking to Vellum, he seemed to be teetotal, and as such was not involved in the musical antics of the others. Not to say he didn't join in for the occasional rendition of Black Barbossa Barbarossa, but mostly he let the others have their fun. Apparently he and Candleson were from a village near Covenbright, a city in the south west of Vale, the pair had been Rogues for twenty-odd years, and Vellum had many stories for Jaune.

“About five years ago, the pair of us were hunting down an Ursa family near Auburnhaft, a small village in Valenmoor. Not sure if the place still exists now, but anyway, there we were, the two of us just prowling over the downs, when this guy, his weapon said he was probably a huntsman and he can't have been much less than thirty, just sprints past us screaming his flipping head off. Course, we got no idea why, but we know screaming tends to bring Grimm, so we ready. Then over the bloody hills comes just a sea of Goliaths, I've never seen that many anywhere else. We just turn and book it as well. Eventually of course, they lose interest, Goliaths are odd Grimm like that, sometimes they just can't be bothered to kill you. We ended up finding the guy hiding in a small cave in the rocks, scared outta his mind, we never got his name, only muttering about bad luck and damn siblings with their damn portals. We turn away one second and he's gone, just some feathers. Our report started a bit of a rumour it did, for some reason there's now a folk tale about a ghost leading around Goliaths down there, it's flippin mad.”

It was long past dark by the time Phos and Jaune retired to their room, the barmaid, apparently called Honey, shooing the guards out of the building as they closed.

The room was simple, with two beds and not much else, however Jaune, much like Gran Arbor, spread his bedroll on the floor. Beds just felt odd to him now, they weren't comfortable anymore, too.. soft.

As Jaune let himself drift off to the sound of Phos' snoring, he was looking forward to the next day. Maybe he’d get to see Phos in action again.

Jaune awoke to knowing that something was deathly wrong. A bell rang across the village frantically pealing out its message. Phos was up like a shot, shoving some white tablets into his mouth and crunching them, his drunkenness gone in an instant. He strode over to the shuttered window and threw it open, taking in a sharp breath.

“Jaune, get ready. This is going to be bad.”

Outside the window Jaune could see fire, the wall was burning, and beyond that little flares of flame, torches.

“What is it?”

Phos looked to Jaune seriously.

“Bandits. This will be dangerous Jaune, but unless you fight someone with aura you should be able to deal with them.”

Phos reached into his coat and held out the Blades of Mercy.

“Jaune... Take these. This is life or death, and your normal knives won't be enough.”

Jaune finished pulling on his coat and hat, before reverently taking the weapon.

Phos ran out into the corridor, spotting Vellum and Candleson coming downstairs from the floor above, Candleson clutching his head. Phos frowned.

“Hangover?”

Vellum grimaced and nodded grimly. Phos threw one of the pills he took earlier at them.

“Have him take that, will take the pain away really quick. We need to go to the wall and help, I outrank the both of you, so I'll give the orders. Vellum, you’re with me, we’re going to help the guard. Candleson, you lead people to the Twisted Stump, it's the most easily fortified building. Jaune-“

Phos turned to his apprentice.

“You’re to guard the Stump and protect the civilians. You may have to fight to protect them. I believe in you kid. Candleson! Once you've gathered everyone you can come back here to help Jaune. You're the last line of defense.”

With that Phos and Vellum ran down the stairs and out of sight. Jaune and Candleson followed soon after.

Right after Candleson left the building Honey the barmaid stuck her head out of the back room.

“What's going on!?”

Jaune took up a position by the front door to check keep watch outside.

“Bandit attack.”

Honey didn't look scared, instead she looked angry.

“A-fucking-gain?! How many bleeding times, well this time my bar won't go down so fast!”

The woman proceeded to reach below the counter and extract a ruddy massive shotgun.

“Whoa! Be careful! One of the Huntsmen is going to be bringing people here to shelter, are there any other weapons we can arm them with, or exits we need to mind?”

Honey lowered the shotgun out of Jaune-obliterating range and thought a moment.

“Only other entry bar windows is the back, but that's barred and reinforced enough there's nothing we could do to barricade it more. The guard have a cache of weapons upstairs. I'll go and get it.”

As the woman ran upstairs Candleson returned with the first load of villagers, fifteen-odd people, farmers and workers, one or two retired guardsmen.

“How many people do we have to bring in?”

Candleson scratched his head.

“About 70 non-guardsmen I’d say. Can't stay, gotta run.”

As the man left Jaune turned to the crowd.

“Ok guys! If they get through we gotta hold out here, Honey’s getting some guard weapons from upstairs, so any who can fire a gun go to her. I'm keeping watch.”

At the wall Phos was already in battle. It didn't take the bandits long at all to breach the burning wall, and now they were streaming over. There must have been more than the entire population of the village, but luckily they did not seem to have expected resistance on this level, and most seemed to lack aura.

Phos ripped Ignited Ashes from the chest of one man, only to extend the hilt through the gut of another, a spray of warm red fluid soaring through the air. The meaty thwack of steel through sinew echoed around him, Embers Burst sending shrapnel into someone, their ribcage disintegrating under the heavy fire. Crimson and gore flew around Phos as he mowed down man after man, the metal stench suffusing his nostrils and dilating his pupils. A vision of carnage that had bandits skirting his periphery to avoid his wrath.

Rather more subdued, Vellum ran a man through with his shotpike, death still followed where he walked, but subdued and melancholic as opposed to the brutal revelry of Phos' combat. Unfortunately, while Phos' and Vellum could mow through the invaders like a scythe through wheat, the guardsmen were more akin to hitting a tree with another, each as likely to break. In a temporary pause from fighting, a gore-bedecked Phos saw the three guards from the bar the previous evening sprinting over to help, and he quickly called out.

“Oi! Bramble! Mire! Shale! Go to the stump, we’re fortifying there!”

Bramble, seemingly the most sober, nodded at Phos' with an unreadable expression, likely due to Phos’ bloody appearance, before steering the other two away. Having caught his breath, Phos leapt back into action, his axe cleaving through a neck as another arc of spraying blood splattered across the remains of the wall.

Forty-odd people had been escorted to the Stump by the time the guard trio arrived. Several older members who once served as guards to a village, not Aspenbairn on the Wend, it was too young, but to other villages, were carrying guns with the ease of practiced hands.

“Bramble! Can you guys hold the door? I'm going to go upstairs and see how the rest looks!”

Since the stump was taller than most other nearby buildings, from its upper floor Jaune could see most of the village, and it wasn't looking good. Huge sections of the wall were down, and the fire had spread to houses as well. Luckily there was quite a gap between the Stump and the houses, or Jaune would have worried about the fire spreading to the building. Unfortunately it seemed, some bandits had made their way past the fight round the perimeter, as Jaune could see the occasional shadow running around like crazy in the town below.

Looking around, Jaune saw Candleson come into view round a corner, leading another group of villagers. He looked around for a moment before booking it to the Stump. With a jolt of shock, Jaune noticed a group of bandits leap out of an alley at Candleson. Caught by surprise, the rogue didn't have time to flare his aura, and with a resounding crack a bullet tore through his right calf. Hurt but not down, Candleson whirled into action, a curved sword laying into the bandits. But injured as he was, Jaune could tell Candleson wouldn't win, not to mention he saw villagers getting caught in the crossfire. Without a second thought Jaune jumped down the stairs and ran out the front door, ignoring shouts from Honey and the guard trio to stop. He was too focused.

As he ran he split the Blades of Mercy. The star-steel sung at being freed and Jaune could feel the weight in his hands like a scale across his shoulders. At first the bandits didn't notice his approach, focused as they were on Candleson. But when Jaune leapt at one of them, razor sharp blade cutting through boiled leather and along the arm below, the bandit’s bellow alerted the rest. The man Jaune had cut and another, teeth sparse and yellow in his wide grin, turned to face the child.

“I'll bloody kill you for that!”

Jaune was calm for the moment, it was a fight, he'd done this before. The injured bandit’s sword whistled towards Jaune, seeming to move through molasses for the boy used to the speed of a man who could basically teleport. With an ease that surprised both sides Jaune caught the weapon with the twists in one of the Blades of Mercy, casually locking the weapon and painfully twisting the already injured arm. With a scream of frustration and pain the man launched himself at Jaune. Jaune, faced with a situation much like that he had first faced in the Creeperjack Forest and had seen many times in the surrounding woods since, reacted with an ease of motion borne from repeated near death attempts.

Jaune ducked under the reaching arm and lashed forward with the blade in a reverse grip, the hooked end catching in the bandit’s abdomen. As the cold metal caught in the fleshy midriff it made a tearing, wrenching noise as it ripped through the man's intestines. A mist of red liquid burst over Jaune's hands and into his face, his hair glistening with drops of ruby red. As the blade exited from the meat, its surface shining red as if in glee, a foul smell from the ruptured intestine assaulted Jaune's nose, but even the stink of partially digested food couldn't erase the sanguine smell of iron that saturated the air. For a moment time was still as Jaune’s mind couldn't keep up. Then with a roar, the other bandit, who had held back initially so his colleague could take revenge for their arm, leapt at Jaune, meaty, metal clad fists flying.

Wide eyed and panicking, Jaune acted on instinct. Rolling to the left and ramming the blade under the man’s arm and into his chest, tearing forwards to cut through the tendons along the back of the armpit. The wet twang of the tendons snapping reverberated through Jaune’s head as he raised his hands to eye level. Fists clenched stiff and unyielding around the hilts of the knives. Hands stained to the elbow in gore, and coat glistening with a red tinge. There was a sticky feeling of blood drying on his face and neck. As he looked at the red his breathing began to go faster and his vision began to narrow.

In his dimming vision Jaune saw Candleson fighting the four other bandits, his sword cut into one’s chest at a diagonal, ruby droplets flying in a sheet of tinny spray, before slamming point first into another's throat. Momentarily restricted by the body around his blade, Candleson was unable to stop the third bandit slamming a mace into his left knee. The joint crumpled around the metal implement, bending backwards with a sickening, teeth grinding crunch. White bone splintering and shattering over the area behind the limb as Candleson fell to the ground with an unholy scream of pain.

The scream distracted Jaune from his spiralling, and with a hoarse, animalistic screech, the boy leapt for the bandit, his grey singing blade sliding across the man’s throat before he could react, the semi-flexible give of the man's trachea shuddering along the blade of the subtly glowing knife.

With a sound of surprise, the one remaining bandit looked around, before turning to run. Jaune, thought process fried and thinking of nothing but his task, leapt for the bandit and grabbed him by the shoulder. With his throat creating yet more inhuman noises, the blade went in and out of the man's back. After two shuddering steps the man fell forwards, but Jaune didn't stop attacking. Through a veil of tears and blood, Jaune continued to raise and drop the blade into the bandit's back. Sobbing uncontrollably as he did, attacks slowly becoming weaker and weaker as the blood settled on his skin.

Jaune's fists slowly raised to press against his face, hands still clutching his knives hard enough his knuckles were white. Tears spilling from his eyes and tearing trails through the gore on his face. His cries echoing through the village.

At the walls the waves of bandits were slowing, Phos swung Ignited Ashes backwards, dislodging the corpse of a bandit from the blade, sending him hurtling into the burning wall.

“Retreat! Retreat!”

The heavy losses finally led the bandits to retreat. Phos had personally killed forty of them, apparently there were more then he thought. As the few attacking men fled, scrambling through the charcoal and cinders, Phos unloaded multiple blasts from Embers Burst into their backs. Two more fell. Suddenly through the carnage sounds around him a keening voice of sorrow and respiration rang through the air. Phos’ head darted around. That was Jaune.

Phos’ feet pounded down the streets, the occasional dead bandit or guardsman who had been caught fighting within the walls lay at the edges of the roads. Phos barely spared them a glance. Breaking into the central square his eyes zeroed in on the scene across the way.

Terrified and wide-eyed civilians pressed themselves up against the walls to avoid a slowly spreading veneer of red across the dusty ground. On the street lay six bodies, five bandits in various stages of dismemberment, and Candleson, the blood soaking up his white clothes, leaving him a scarlet figure slung on the floor. His leg shattered and broken, his breathing faint and short. Then in the middle of the pool was Jaune, sat astride a corpse with a torso resembling more minced meat than the chest of a man, silver knives sparkling red, sanguine hair flowing down a gleaming back of wet leather, mouth fixed in a hollow scream as an inhuman sound of sorrow fell in a constant stream from his throat.

Phos strode into the bloody pool and gently picked up Jaune into his arms, ignoring the blood that mingled with that already on his clothes. Jaune removed his fists from his eyes and saw Phos, he immediately let go of the Blades and grasped the front of Phos' waistcoat with both hands, burying his face in Phos blood-slick shoulder. Phos removed the blades with his other hand and stowed them. He gently rocked Jaune, the exhaustion and shock sending him into an uneasy sleep. Phos then turned to the still staring villagers.

“Get to the Stump. If I've got this right you owe your life to this child you are treating like a monster. Tell Bramble and his lot to get out here, Candleson needs medical attention, urgently.”

Phos turned his back on the civilians and began walking to the stump, he remembered his first kill.

Jaune would be in hell when he woke up.

**\--------------- Hunter Files --------------**

_Banditry in Modern Remnant_

The optimist would hope that by the modern-day Humanity and Faunuskind would be above the petty greed that leads to banditry. Unfortunately, this is far from the case. Crime is as rampant as it has ever been, from the Cartels of the Mistral underworld, to the casual thievery of Vacuo. Banditry however, holds a special place. In Remnant banditry specifically refers to bands of raiders outside major population centres, generally, they raid trade caravans and attack small villages, but their actions are far from black and white. Many bandits act as they do out of a desire for personal gain, as would be expected. This is the most common motivation, but some fall into the life out of desperation, generally after their own village falls, and then the stain keeps them in that life forever. Others are born to the practice and never know a way out.

Banditry is however, responsible for a disproportionate level of death when compared to other criminal lifestyles, this is specifically due to the nature of the act. The assault of villages and caravans in the wild invariably draw Grimm in their wake. Bandits come in groups from small bands to massive armies. Technically by modern standards, ancient groups such as the Silver Crews of the Pirate Lords, the Crimson Raiders of Barbossa Barbarossa, the Black Hand of the Spine and the Wildland Reavers, all responsible for tens of thousands of deaths, would be classified as bandits. In the modern day there are certain bands that rise above others in prominence. Mistral has the Branwen Tribe, Fenris, and the Green Pact, Vale the Heirs of the Tourmaline and the Moorrunners.

On the most part, bandits lack aura, or have very weak auras, but any substantial band tends to have at least a few accomplished aura users for dealing with Huntsmen. These individuals however tend not to get involved until the presence of a Huntsman is established, this is because in most cases these aura trained bandits are Rogue Huntsmen, or even official Huntsmen, and so not want their bandit status to become common knowledge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! A fairly big one this time, and without an excessively long wait :O it's a miracle!
> 
> Again, the little shameless plug. I have been working on a different RWBY related project, which (when in a releasable state) will be published on the YouTube channel 'Combat Ready Studios', current home of the RWBY spinoff EDWS (Edelweiss). So, if my stories have in any way interested you, I really request you check that out. We also have a Discord at "https://discord.gg/hQYwAd6"  
> Just note that my stories on here have nothing really to do with what goes on in there.
> 
> Current ranks in the poll:
> 
> Weapon:  
> • The Burial Blade - 10  
> • The Rakuyo - 5
> 
> Voters for the poll:
> 
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Lagzal, Cegorach, Niho, N1njapanda15, Rogue_eL, REGIKING, Axccel, Ya Boy, MindsandMirrors, Sir_Wobblefish, Twinfire, xXkapow1227Xx.
> 
> Currently I'm aiming at working in both Winter and Neo, but that may change.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, Kudos and comments are always appreciated, and if you have interest feel free to vote in the wespon poll. Just please keep it to one entry per person.


	8. Valean Wilds 1: Reality of Duty

The Stump was filled with bodies. It had been rapidly requisitioned as a makeshift hospital, and injured guardsmen littered the tables. The majority of the villagers had long since left to sift through what remained of their homes. Phos strode between the tables, bandaging wounds and splinting limbs, he may not be the most skilled medic, especially considering his personal constitution, but he could make do. The most pressing patient however, was Candleson.

Candleson's right leg was unrecoverable, the knee had been turned to a mass of fleshy pulp and bone shards, no medical technology could fix that. His best chance was an Atlesian prosthetic, but, being in the middle of the wilds, prospects seemed bleak. The mangled tissue had already been removed while he was unconscious, but he still had a freshly amputated leg, and a bullet wound, when he woke up, leaving him in serious pain. Luckily however, it seemed the bullet wound was clear and already healing thanks to his aura. It shouldn't affect the motion of the limb once it fully recovered. Vellum hadn’t left his bedside since he first entered and saw his friend.

Phos had already activated his emergency beacon to the association, all B-rank and below Rogues in the region had been alerted to the situation, he just had to hope they were able to reach the village.

The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, and in the reddening light the true damage to Aspenbairn on the Wend was obvious. Three quarters of the town had burned to the ground, there was no wall anymore. Crows and other scavengers formed a cloud above the houses. This was the end of the village, there was no way it would be re-established, too many negative emotions were linked to the place for that.

Jaune was still out, Phos had stripped him and cleaned off the worst of the blood, he was resting upstairs in the bed. Phos was rather worried about him, killing people was an unavoidable part of being a Hunter, you were never just restricted to Grimm, but ten years old? That was too young. Phos killed his first man when he was fifteen, and even then he was throwing up for weeks. He'd hoped to shield Jaune from that for as long as possible. There was some degree of advantage to doing it early Phos supposed, he was trying to see the bright side here, at least Jaune had time to get used to the idea, and his training wouldn't have to shy away from the topic, but still.

With the daylight growing stronger, Phos went upstairs to sit by his Apprentice's side. The people he could help downstairs had been stabilised. As Jaune lay on the bed, Phos was struck at just how small Jaune was. Despite technically being tall for his age, Jaune was thin and light and... Oh Heir, he had failed his charge.  
It was an hour or two before Jaune woke up. For a moment he merely wondered why he was in a bed now, but then the events of the night before came rushing back. Jaune scrambled into the corner of the bed, curling into as small a ball as he could.

“Jaune! Jaune, it's okay, calm down. Everything's fine.”

Phos’ words did little to assuage Jaune, his eyes wide and darting around.

“Jaune!”

The child's breath started to come faster and faster. Phos moved on to the bed and took Jaune in his arms, rubbing his back slowly to comfort him. Jaune was still naked, but Phos had long since taken on a paternal role, not to mention seen everything already at the woods, so this didn't cause particular awkwardness. Eventually the gentle reassurances and soft, grounding touch of Phos' hand helped Jaune calm down somewhat.

“Jaune, your actions last night saved far more people than you harmed. It will be difficult for a long while, but I will be here.”

Jaune buried his face into Phos shoulder again, and Phos placed his hand on the back of the child’s head.

“As much as I would like to give you time to recover Jaune, we’re not in a good place at the moment. Do you think you're up to getting dressed and going downstairs?”

Phos only received a weak nod from the boy, but it was something. Shortly they had Jaune dressed in his clothes, which Phos had already cleaned of blood. Jaune hesitated at the top of the stairs, the smell of the almost abattoirial makeshift hospital below catching in his nose. A gentle guiding hand on his shoulder gave Jaune the courage to descend the steps.

When Jaune stepped out into the room with the bandaged guards he momentarily froze as he was met with a resounding cheer from the mostly injured men. Though the civilians who had witnessed his fight were still overloading over the violence the child had utilised, the fighting men who were used to what needed to be done to combat Grimm and bandits recognised the debt they owed to the kid. Bramble, Mire, Shale and the old retired guards were likely the loudest, they had seen Jaune’s actions first hand, and knew that without him all eighteen villagers that Candleson had been protecting would have died.

After the cheer died down, Jaune paralysed like a deer in headlights, he noticed a figure stride over quickly. It was Vellum. Jaune began to panic, he'd let Candleson be hurt, Vellum must be mad-

Jaune was jolted out of his fear by a crying Vellum engulfing him in a hug.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“B-b-b-but i-“

“You saved his life! Oh blessings to the Bright Father, you saved him!”

Jaune just made stuttering sounds.

“I almost lost him again, you have no idea how much I'm thankful to you.”

Vellum's words quickly deteriorated into sobs, Jaune looked around frantically in confusion before Phos put his hand on Jaune's head. Vellum quickly released him with more stammered thanks, before making his way back to Candleson's bedside.

Phos led Jaune outside where he finally saw the destruction. Jaune couldn't stop himself from sucking in a breath, blackened charcoal littered the village. Phos picked his charge up and proceeded to jump onto the roof of the Stump, eliciting a surprised squawk from Jaune.

As they sat on the roof looking over the town, Phos began to speak.

“A Hunter’s life is a bloody one Jaune, it's not something you can avoid. We hunt beasts, whether monster or man, or both. Like it or not, your life will contain more death, however not all death is the same. The lives you took last night saved so many more lives, innocent lives trying to sustain themselves in a world harsh enough without people making it worse. Spilling blood to that end, while undesirable, is sometimes necessary. However, you must never raise your blade against someone while not in defence of others or yourself. Blood can be an intoxicating thing Jaune, it is the essence of humanity, but also, in a way, alien to us. An old saying from our Order states 'We are born of the Blood, made men by the Blood, undone by the Blood. Our eyes are yet to open. Fear the old Blood.’ It’s a pretty loaded quote, and I won't try and explain it all now, but essentially, for Hunters, our blood leads us to the call, and while it is our blood that keeps us human, rather than the monsters we fight, a lust for blood can also undo us, making us into those very monsters. No matter what Jaune, spilling blood for the sake of spilling blood is monstrous. I am so proud of how you leapt into action yesterday, but I'm also scared. You really weren't physically ready for that, nor were you ready mentally for the act.”

Phos sighed.

“Never for a moment believe that your actions last night were wrong. I killed upwards of forty people in this incident alone. Almost everyone downstairs in the Stump killed at least one person. You may have blood on your hands, but had you not acted and instead left those civilians to be killed, you would have had far more.”

Jaune didn't respond but Phos felt the tension in his shoulders ease somewhat.

The two sat up on that roof for several hours, keeping watch over the town’s remains, Phos maintaining a comforting arm around Jaune's shoulders all the while. Several small groups of Grimm approached the ruins from the forest, passing under trees taller than any of the village’s buildings. The guards and Vellum saw the Grimm off with ease, but these were just the signs of something far worse coming. Grimm may take up to a few days to attack a fallen settlement, but they would always come. They just had to hope the Rogues that Phos had alerted got here fast enough.

As the sun reached its highest point, and both Phos and Jaune were beginning to feel peckish, the first few Rogues began to arrive. Three or four trickled in, of varying ages, the highest rank was a C rank who looked to be about 18, but the others were all D or E.

Once enough had arrived, the Huntsmen and town leaders moved to the mayor's office, which was on the top floor of the Stump. Just as the conversation was about to begin, Phos swung in through the open window carrying Jaune in the crook of his arm. There was momentary confusion, but it was quickly silenced.

“The most important question is what are we going to do now?”

Phos turned to the D rank who'd spoken.

“When recovering from an attack like this you tend to have three options. First, rebuild. If the damage isn't extensive, and the trauma isn't particularly strong, it's sometimes worth just rebuilding the town. However...”

Phos looked out to the destroyed town.

“That’s not really an option. Second, move to another village. This is common, especially if there's no Huntsmen around, if the town is too far gone people try and move to nearby villages, however, if the trauma is enough then these people drag Grimm with them to those other villages. People generally split between different destinations, thus the strain isn't too bad, but in this case, since they'd be escorted by Huntsmen, it would be large groups, putting a lot of strain on resources just by numbers, not including the risk of Grimm from large groups of people with negative emotions.

Third, escort the population to a major city that's able to deal with the emotional spike, and let them return to villages on their own at a later date.

This is probably the best option right now. The village is about a week of civilian travel away from Sable Down. It's only about five days from Gran Arbor, but that would take them right through the Tourmaline Woods. The passes through the Vale mountains are far safer, not to mention that Gran Arbor's style of defence and culture surrounding Grimm isn't exactly calming for traumatised villagers.”

One of the Rogues looked around at the group with a mocking expression.

“So, what? We gotta escort them all to Sable Down in a week? I don't know what you've been smoking mate, but the Brandon's Claim pass is about two weeks away, and the Vandal's claim is almost three. No way we can supply a full village for that trek on foot.”

Phos looked at the E rank who'd spoken with a look of derision.

“A sixteen year old amateur is now telling an old hand in a job where people die young that how he operates is wrong? Maybe learn from your predecessors. The Brandon and Vandal passes are far from the only routes through the Vale mountains. There's pretty much a direct shot over them straight into Highpeak from the source of the Wend. The pass isn't used much anymore, but it's still there.”

The E rank's face had shifted from annoyance to terror, and several other Rogues, including the C rank, were looking decidedly uncomfortable.

“You want us to go through Marbel? No. Heck no. There's a reason that place is still abandoned.”

Phos just rolled his eyes.

“It was a religious conflict over three hundred years ago. The Grimm Crusades are long over, and the Mother's Advocates dead with them. The Marbel Ruins are no more dangerous than anywhere else this side of the mountains. I've passed through them many times. The days of Ravenmockers guarding the gates of the Marbel High Court ended decades ago, I should know, I participated in the raid.”

The Rogues shifted.

“Even so...”

“The only danger the ruins pose, is caused by your fear of them.”

The village’s mayor, a pudgy man with deep stress lines on his face and a receding grey hairline, stood from his desk and cleared his throat to get their attention.

“Everyone knows the stories about Marbel, but right now I don't care about the past.”

He looked to Phos.

“Sir. Will your plan get my citizens to safety?”

Phos sighed.

“It's not a certain thing, but it's by far the best chance I can see you having.”

The mayor nodded and addressed the group as a whole.

“Can any of you think of an alternative plan more likely to get my citizens to safely.”

The Rogues shifted nervously.

“I see. Well then, as the elected leader of these people, I say we shall go with Mr Argentum’s plan.”

Jaune stayed quiet through the meeting. Most of what was discussed would have gone right over his head at the best of times, and this was not the best of times. Jaune was still shaken, every time his eyes closed all he could see was the red, over his hands, beneath his knees, _in his skin_.

He could still hear the sounds, the screams and squelches, the wet tearing... And the feeling still lay in his hands, the knife parting flesh, the slight resistance then nothing as the metal slid through meat.

The pressure built and built, he was **wrong** , this was **wrong**. How can he- red, screams, the knife, his hands, no, red, NO!

Jaune was jolted out of his impending panic by Phos’ grounding hand on his head.

He briefly registered the Rogues leaving the mayor's office, but under the gentle soothing of Phos’ hand, he drifted into a, thankfully dreamless, sleep.

When Phos woke he could tell Phos was moving, he'd been shifted from Phos’ arm to his back. The pace was far slower than Jaune was used to when traveling with Phos. As he opened his eyes Jaune saw a large group of people, all carrying packs of supplies, slowly trudging up the bank of the wend into the fading light.  
Looking back Jaune could just about see, far in the distance already, the smoke rising from Aspenbairn on the Wend.

“You're awake.”

Jaune jumped a little.

“Yeah.”

Phos was relieved, at least Jaune was talking now.

“We've been walking for five hours or so, you've been out for about seven. We’ll be making camp in another hour or so, then you and me will take first watch, you'll probably be awake enough anyway, given your nap.”

As Jaune looked around he could see that the guardsmen were posted at the edge of the group, with the Rogues patrolling around that. Vellum could be seen dragging Candleson on a makeshift sled along with several other people with transport for the injured. Off in the front Jaune could hear Bramble and Shale singing what was probably supposed to be a rousing song, likely in an attempt to fend off negativity, but looking at the faces of the villagers, it wasn't working. Every now and again one of the Rogues would fire a shot off into the woods, the occasional scream of Grimm as they died relaying quite effectively why.

The going was tough, though regularly used by Huntsmen, the banks of the Wend were not a forgiving path, and the villagers were struggling. Though paths through the wild were generally not uncommon, the Tourmaline Woods were mostly path-less. More than once Jaune saw a villager stumble and let out a sharp expletive and, painfully aware of his seemingly easy journey on Phos’ back, he decided to dismount and join them on foot. There were children in the crowd after all, he had to set an example.

Their camp that night was rudimentary, some people didn't even have bedrolls. A few fires were littered around, but the meagre dinner cooked over them was depressing.

As the light faded, and Phos and Jaune took up their post as sentries along with a few guards, it finally struck Jaune that his training had already shifted to real life. The events in Aspenbairn on the Wend had seemed in a haze thus far, but this... This was a full on Rogue mission, it suddenly clicked in his mind that this was effectively his future. Doing what he can to help others but... But more than likely failing to solve events perfectly.

The night was uneventful. Phos handed over guard duty to a Rogue after a few hours and they lay down to sleep. The morning was misty, damp and miserable, they ate a damp and miserable breakfast, before heading off into the damp and miserable distance.  
Tempers were fraying even more than before, as evidenced by increased requirement for deterrence of Grimm from the woods, and snapping boardils from the water. There was only one major incident at least, a Tauroch right in the path, but Phos was not feeling up to pulling anything fancy and just lobbed Ignited Ashes into its forehead. The quick takedown did raise spirits briefly, but the mist quickly sapped the good mood.

Their second camp was rather more careful, the increased incidents along the march had convinced the Rogues that tonight would be the time the Grimm would come, and they were right.

The civilians and injured huddled together up against a hollow in a small cliff face, surrounded by guards and Huntsmen, and protected from above by sentries and an overhang. Tensions were on a knife edge as the group prepared for the assault. A drizzle had beset them as the mist had begun to clear, the damp day making fire an impossibility, and it was only a few dust lamps that fended away the gloom. Jaune stood with the civilians, Phos had given him the Blades again, but he couldn't bring himself to touch them. They sat on his belt with a weight they shouldn't by all rights have. Lives were heavy indeed.

The first fanged maw to emerge from the thinning mist belonged to a young Beowolf, its ivory mask bearing few red markings, shiny and whole. It prowled into view, tongue lolling from its jaw. It paced along the outer line, growling. A guardsman, nerves on edge and panicking, fired a shot.

The bullet sailed true through the air and entered the Beowolf’s head through the eye socket. The beast slowly fell to the ground. In response to the report of the rifle came a chorus of bellows and shrieks from the fog, before all hell broke loose.

Beowolves, Ursa, Taijitu, a Scuttleback, Boardils, Taurochs, Nevermores, Steeplejacks, the tide was as varied as it was large, and it was met with a brick wall. Jaune was astonished at the Rogues’ fight, this was what they did, this was their element, and despite the tide of darkness, it was a rare thing for a Grimm to pass the line. Weapons sung and Grimm flesh parted, Jaune saw the C rank spin like a dervish through Beowolf after Beowulf, scimitar singing through them like they didn't exist. Phos’ axe was crushing plating and bone as easily as it sliced through flesh, and the others were pulling their weight.

But these Rogues were only people, and people tire. The tide seemed endless, and eventually some slipped through the cracks. The crack of guardsmen’s rifles picking up stragglers soon joined the battle chorus, but even then there were some that got too close.  
With an ear splitting shriek Jaune saw a woman near him go down under a Beowolf’s claws and he was suddenly struck by a realisation. He had the ability to protect these people, and that gave him a duty to. His issues right now should come second to the survival of his charges, and at the moment that was not what he was doing.

With silent conviction Jaune once more drew the Blades of Mercy, pushing back bile in his throat as he raised them, still blood-soaked to his eyes, up to engage. With a short cry the Beowolf's head fell from its shoulders, Jaune falling to one knee to heave at the familiar sensation before he staggered back to his feet to stand before the villagers. He was the last line of defence, so he would do his job.

The morning dawned inappropriately bright and clear. They had seen off the Grimm best they could, but it had not been without cost. A D rank Rogue had fallen in the night, and seven villagers, three of them guardsmen, had perished. It was not a joyous party that set off that morning, nor a well rested one. They were tired and resigned.

That day the trees began to thin, and occasionally among the roots they could see masonry. The Wend had started to shrink slightly as they walked, but it was still a river. By noon they were out of the forest entirely, and on an ancient crumbling road along the riverbank. They had entered the long-dead nation of Marbel, and paranoia was rampant.

“Phos? Why is everyone so afraid of this place?”

Phos sighed a little.

“Marbel holds a lot of bad memories for the Vale area as a whole. Two hundred and ninety-odd years before the Vytal treaty a Grimm-worshipping splinter sect, well, not really Grimm worshipping but a similar idea, of the Church of the Divine Parents tried to use some political chaos going on in Marbel to sieze control of the country, and after a while they succeeded. Not least due to Grimm fighting on their side. This began a twenty year long period known as the Grimm Crusades, as wave after wave of Marbel-led Grimm were sent charging at the surrounding nations. Even after Marbel was taken down the nation remained dangerously full of Grimm, it's only relatively recently that it's been cleared. Despite how long ago it was, the event was influential enough to still be a source of fear. It's much like the Colonisation Wars are to Vacuo, or the Slave Wars are to Mistral.”

Jaune was confused.

“But why are people scared of it now?”

“Rumour and hearsay mostly. There are people who still assign a sort of demonic or mystical trait to the place, and the fact Grimm were willing to work alongside people is an issue. The prevailing theory is that some old Grimm were intelligent enough to know that they'd cause more damage to humans by working with The Mother's Advocates, that's the name of the splinter sect, than on their own, and they bullied the others into line. There is evidence of this happening on the small scale, for example the Fenris bandit tribe of Mistral seems to have a Beowolf pack that they sometimes cooperate with, but lots of things still don't line up. The Ravenmockers guarding the High Court for centuries for one.”

Jaune looked around as they passed through the remains of an old village, the base of stone walls outlining the buildings around them.

“It seems more sad then scary.”

Phos ruffled his hair and turned to look at the village too. In some cases the worn stones could barely be discerned from the scrub brush.

“Yeah, that it is. It's always sad to see lives that have gone, but we must stay positive. The Grimm are still a danger, and while Marbel is no longer particularly dangerous, it's not particularly safe either.”

Off in the distance the capital city began to hove into view, even after many years of wear and tear, the giant white edifice still gleamed in the dimming light, and just beyond it the Vale Mountains. Around them was a large flat plain, giving view in all directions. The lack of Grimm and good weather had begun to raise spirits among the group, but their losses still weighed heavily.  
Their camp that night was lit by a bright fire, and an odd cheer seemed to pass around the crowd. It was far from happy, but it was improvement. The Grimm seemed to have been dissuaded from attack too, which meant everyone got a good sleep, or as good a sleep as you could get in the hard ground, which in Jaune’s case was very good.

The fourth day of travel started bright and early, there were even marching songs as they went, the clear views showing a lack of Grimm raised everyone's spirits.

Now that he was able to stay awake for a reasonably long time, and the old road they were traveling on was causing less pain to his missing leg than the rough terrain before, Candleson convinced Vellum to take him to Jaune.

When Jaune saw Candleson he stumbled, automatically feelings of guilt began to overwhelm him until he felt a hand on his arm. Looking down, Candleson had grasped his wrist.

“Thank you. I know you're probably beating yourself up over this-“

He gestured at his leg.

“-but don't. You saved my life. There have been times when people under my watch have been injured or killed, or I have had to take the lives of others to protect people. There always will be situations like that in a profession like ours, so I know how self destructive it can be to wallow in those events. I urge you, take the thanks of those you save to heart, those thanks are a proof that you helped them, even if they don't thank you and instead deride you, without you they wouldn't have been alive to be able to deride you. 

You can be sure that I will always be thankful to you. Please, whenever you need to provide a reference to the association or a client, use me. I may not be the highest rank, but I've been at it for several years.”

With a gentle smile, slightly pained, but gentle, Candleson was dragged away by Vellum, who also flashed Jaune a smile.

As the day passed on, and the shining walls of the city drew closer, the good mood began to fade, paranoia seeping back into people's heads. That night they camped up against the walls. Though from afar it seemed as though the city could still be populated, up close the stone was cracked and pitted, towers had fallen, and segments of wall were sagging or collapsed.

To the relief of everyone, but especially the Huntsmen, they were not attacked that night, and with the morning light they began the fifth day towards the mountains.  
It wasn't long before the undulating foothills began to grow, the road had ended at the city and the gravelly path they now trod was altogether more unpleasant. By lunchtime they were well in the mountains and the inclines were starting to weigh on some people. Grimm were finally beginning to appear again, a few small packs of Steeplejacks had to be taken care of, but nothing major. As night fell the group had yet to find a camping spot. The trail was narrow, with a sheer cliff one side and a sheer drop the other. It wasn't until well past dark that they found a cave where they could take refuge.

The sixth day was more scrabbling along gravely paths with a risk of death down one side. Several individuals basically plastered themselves to the cliff wall, and the strong winds that day didn't help matters. As the group settled down that night they could see, a few mountains away, the angular silhouette that was Sable Down.

As the group approached the city gates they were met with surprise, it was rare for people to take that path after all, but after realising the situation and that there were wounded in the group they were quick to come to the villager’s aid. As Jaune passed through the heavy black walls of the city he let out a long sigh of relief. Even if the passage had been fairly uneventful since that Grimm attack in the woods, having charges you were responsible for was mentally taxing. However, they had made it, and now it was back to training, hopefully next time he was in a real situation he'd be more ready.

**\--------------- Hunter Files --------------**

_Religion in Vale: Marbel and the Grimm Crusades – Excerpt from a lecture by Professor Basil Tree, Head of History at Haven Academy._

Religion in the Valean area is historically far more important than the modern attitude to the topic would suggest, and thus is majorly tied to one event, the Grimm Crusades. For centuries there had been small religiously motivated conflicts, these were rarely between nations, but rather individual settlements.

There were two major religions in the Valean region at the time, putting aside outliers like the still poorly understood beliefs of the Wildmen of the Tourmaline, these being the Brother’s Devout and the Church of the Divine Parents. The two schools of thought both believed in a pair of deities tied to light and darkness, but disagreed on their role. To the Devout the gods were brothers, and bickered as brothers do. To the Church they were parental figures, guiding humanity and working together. To discuss all the different sects of these religions and their varying beliefs would take weeks, if you are interested I suggest you take the 'History of Religion, an In-Depth Analysis' module in your third or fourth year.

Despite some bickering there were few incidents until 295 BVT, if you still have yet to remember class, BVT stands for Before Vytal Treaty. In 295 BVT there was substantial unrest in the nation of Marbel. Marbel had an odd ruling system where the nation's judges were in control of the government, and after several major cases were settled in ways the public didn't like, uprisings began to appear like wildfire. Amidst these uprisings came one from a small sect of the Church of the Divine Parents called the Mother's Devout. These people believed the Mother, Queen of Darkness and Sovereign of Grimm, to have created Grimm to be humanity's guardians, and it was the machinations of the Father that had perverted their purpose.

It is unknown exactly how, but after a short time, the Advocates had fully taken control of Marbel. Given their later tactics, the are strong theories as to their methods however.

Immediately after taking control in 292 BVT, waves of Grimm and cultists under the banner of the Advocates began attacking the surrounding nations. It was a brutal period that lasted for nineteen years. By 285 BVT the Tourmaline Woods had become so saturated with Grimm that the native faunus tribes of the Wildmen of the Tourmaline had to flee to the nearby human nations. It wasn't until the collateral damage of the Great War thinned Grimm numbers worldwide that the Woods became safe for civilian passage. By 278 BVT the nations that made up Sanus’ Eastern Alliance had all evacuated to their colonies in West Anima. By 275 BVT the small and long-failing nation of Fade up against the Green Spine was destroyed. Such tragedies continued, with high casualties in Otembaer, Vale and Jace, until Marbel was finally crushed in 273 by the armies of the mountain nation of Grieg, from Mount Sentinel in South-West Vale.

Even with Marbel gone the conflict had lasting repercussions across the continent, the insane losses suffered by Grieg left them helpless when in 198 BVT a Grimm horde led by a Grimm Dragon destroyed the country and occupied the underground capital of Morelheim, nowadays known as Douron Hall. By 176 BVT, the loss of the Alliance, Wildmen and Grieg, along with aggression from the Silver Crews Pirate Nation and the Grimm in the Tourmaline Woods, resulted in the Trade Nation of Jace falling, and with it went trade between the Valean region and the Vacuan region for the second time in recorded history. This loss of trade is directly responsible for the collapse of the Vintrack Hedgemony in Vacuo, and de-united the region again.

The fallout of the Grimm Crusades forever put a sigma on active religious worship in the Vale region and is undoubtedly the reason why such worship is frowned upon there, an attitude that has spread worldwide since the days of the Colonisation Wars and the Great War.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Think this one's fairly big. This whole arc was supposed to just have been a quick jump to Sable Down, but no. Trauma that will be Central plot for the next few in-plot years.
> 
> Again, the little shameless plug. I have been working on a different RWBY related project, which (when in a releasable state) will be published on the YouTube channel 'Combat Ready Studios', current home of the RWBY spinoff EDWS (Edelweiss). So, if my stories have in any way interested you, I really request you check that out. We also have a Discord at "https://discord.gg/hQYwAd6"  
> Just note that my stories on here have nothing really to do with what goes on in there.
> 
> Current ranks in the poll:
> 
> Weapon:  
> • The Burial Blade - 10  
> • The Rakuyo - 6
> 
> Voters for the poll:
> 
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Lagzal, Cegorach, Niho, N1njapanda15, Rogue_eL, REGIKING, Axccel, Ya Boy, MindsandMirrors, Sir_Wobblefish, Twinfire, xXkapow1227Xx, Icarus720.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, Kudos and comments are always appreciated, and if you have interest feel free to vote in the wespon poll. Just please keep it to one entry per person.


	9. Sable Down 1: Time Flies When You're Pounding Iron

Sable Down was a semicircular city up against one cliff face and surrounded by the drop of another. It was a city of two opposing and yet harmonious halves. Jaune looked out from his room in the hotel they had briefly stayed at and saw a sea of smokestacks.

Vast tracts of the city were industrial metalwork and red brick, but the construction was so detailed and intricate that it resembled high Gothic architecture more than what you'd expect from such a place. Brass pipes snaked around and between buildings, tall spires and chimneys meshing into cathedral facades of brick and black iron. Clouds of Dust slag bellowed into the sky from the many pipes, creating an almost musical rumble. Indeed, the sound was so iconic and easily manipulated, that the entire industrial complex worked as a massive organ and clock, ringing out specific deep rumbling songs every hour. The smell of Dust suffused the air, from the cinnamon of Burn to the mint of Chill, the ozone of Spark to the iron tang of Force. A red glow lit the dark edifice from beneath, forge fires leaping and churning, furnaces driving cogs and belts and bellows.

Then at the center of the forge, up against the cliff wall, lay the academic town and the Gipfel School of Higher learning. The main building of the school mirrored the workshops, a beautiful display of harsh Gothic architecture, carved from the mountain itself. There were no seams in the old castle of Highpeak, it was painstakingly crafted from one piece of solid grey stone. It was, and still is, a part of the Mountain, its halls extending deep into the stone facade of the cliff. Surrounding it were more buildings in that style.

There was a rule in Sable Down. This was the city of craftsmen, **nothing** would be made sub-par.  
The clicking of the door made Jaune turn, Phos was coming back from a few errands he'd had to run.

“Sorry that took a while, I had to file a report with the Association.”

“A report?”

“Ah, yes. While most missions are fairly simple, the more complicated ones often require you to write a mission report. The Association needs evidence that you completed it after all. While taking out a Grimm population or assisting in construction generally only requires a few pictures to be sent in, and guard duty jobs are generally signed off by town officials, more complicated jobs, and sudden jobs like the bandit attack and our escort – which was retroactively turned into a mission – often require more detailed narratives from multiple participants. It also lets them tell when either the Rogue or Client is lying, which can come in handy sometimes, especially when dealing with the Winchesters, good Association branches just ignore reports from the Winchesters, they pretty much always lie.”

Phos flopped down on his bed.

“You remember why we’re here right Jaune?”

Jaune nodded.

“To make my own weapons right?”

Jaune's voice wavered slightly, his mind still seeing the bandits at the village when he thought of the Blades of Mercy.

“That's right, however, I don't think I ever explained why we had to come here for that did I. After all, most towns have a blacksmith, Gran Arbor has several after all. When you were using the Blades did you notice anything strange about them?”

Jaune thought for a moment, shaking his head a little as redness threatened to overtake his vision.

“Ummm... I couldn't tell what they were made of? The metal looked odd, it wasn't like the steel in the tools we used back home. Is it some... Alloy or something?”

Jaune wasn’t exactly sure what an alloy was, he thought it was a mix of two metals? Maybe.

“Not exactly Jaune. You're correct that they're not made of steel, but it's a bit more unusual than just an alloy. Ignited Ashes here is made of an alloy, an expensive multi-dust alloy, but fairly normal material. In fact many of our order’s traditional weapons are indeed made of mundane materials, but there are some that are not, this includes the Blades. These weapons are made from a metal known as Siderite. Siderite is a metal only found in meteorites, thus it's also known as Star-Steel or Celestial Iron. Siderite is heavily controlled by the kingdom’s governments and very few people are allowed to wield or forge weapons made of it, this is because Siderite is very dangerous. What is a fighter’s greatest defence?”

Jaune cocked his head a little.

“Speed.”

Phos chucked.

“You're learning, but I was actually referring to what you'd have said when we started your training.”

“Aura?”

“Ding! Anyway, aura is incredibly important as a defence for fighters, Siderite is considered to be so dangerous because it saps aura on contact. The drain isn't particularly quick, but it still causes people to lose aura far faster then normal. In addition, injuries caused by Siderite heal incredibly slowly, as aura cannot heal them. As you'd expect, the government doesn't want random murderers getting their hands on Siderite weapons, so access to them is heavily restricted. Luckily, our order can benefit from its history. Long in the past we were given permission to carry Siderite weapons in the Vale region, and then the Vytal treaty unknowingly spread that permission to the other four kingdoms. Unfortunately, we do not intrinsically have permission to make them, that has to be earned independently. So, knowing how rare those who can forge with it are, why do you think we're here?”

“To find someone who can forge it?”

“Yes! Specifically, the head of the blacksmithing institute at the Gipfel School. Luckily, I know him and he owes me a few favours. I will warn you that in a few weeks I may have to leave you temporarily, I have to do a few jobs and pad the wallet a bit, but you should be fine.”

If anything, Sable Down was even grander at foot level. As Jaune followed Phos through the industrial area, the heavy heat of the place settled on him like a sweltering cloud. Now that he was close he saw that the cathedral-like splendour of the area wasn’t just restricted to a superficial overview. Every wall, every pipe, every buttress, furnace and rail was perfect, ornate and interwoven. Now within the maze he could see small trains charging through the lattice, carrying people and goods between buildings. Stone was carved, metal forged and Dust purified all around him. Even the path he walked on was a mosaic of bricks engraved with letters which, now he turned his attention to it, he could see were spelling out stories of Highpeak's achievements. Walls were covered in art, from carvings to Dust-infused paintings which glowed in the darkness and would never fade. The road was not open to the sky, a vaulted glass ceiling far above kept what little rain managed to reach the city without evaporating away off the workers  
.

Phos was tall enough that the crowd of workers parted before him, so Jaune was trying to stay right behind him in his wake. This didn't mean that he didn't have to occasionally dance out of the way of a cart full of ore, but it was an altogether easier journey.

When Jaune emerged from the dark heat of the workshop into the central academic town the change was disturbingly sudden; hot, dark and loud, to cool, bright and quiet. Well, as quiet as it could be this close to a thumping foundry.

Elegant parkland spread between the buildings in the region, as Jaune walked past them he couldn't help but observe the similarities with the forge. Flying buttresses, stained glass, towering spires, statues, carvings, mosaics and fountains. Though the academic town wasn’t as busy as the workshop, streams of students, from eleven to well into their twenties, parted around the two, their clothes drawing stares from the civilians.

Rather then heading to the main building, Phos diverted them towards one little island of the industrial sector within the sea of academia. The door was thick wood banded with wrought iron, and it revealed a surprisingly normal looking reception. Phos turned to the receptionist, who was quirking her eyebrow at them.

“Can you get Jeklo for me?”

The receptionist looked at them unimpressed.

“Doctor Kovac doesn't have time for every raggedy huntsman to come barging into the city. Go back to the outskirts, I'm sure you can find some apprentice who is closer to your price range.”

Phos sighed.

“I told him to be more careful with who he hired last time. Oh well...”

Phos took a deep breath before yelling as loud as he could.

“Oi! Jeklo, ya old goat! Get down here!”

The receptionist, once she got over the shock of the sheer volume of Phos' shout, looked at the pair of them with the most venomous look Jaune had ever seen.

“I am going to insist you leave, or I will have to call the guards.”

Her voice was clipped and disdainful. Phos turned to her and looked disapprovingly.

“You should learn not to judge people on appearance, or one day you'll end up burned.”

The receptionist was about to reply when a loud rumbling interrupted her. Jaune looked around quickly, worried about an earthquake, but the reason rapidly became clear. A short heavyset man was barrelling down the stairs. He reached the bottom, looking around wildly before seeing Phos and jumping at him. Phos grunted as the heavy man greeted him with a wide hug, large hands thumping on the Huntsman's back.

“Argentum ya raggedy wolf! It's been too long! Why ya here? Ya break something?”

Phos gave a wry smile.

“Not that Jeklo. I'd prefer to talk in your office about it though.”

The receptionist looked terrified.

Jeklo's office was also remarkably normal, dark wooden panelling stretched across the walls, matching the furniture. Now that the man wasn’t wrapped around Phos, Jaune could get a good look at him. He wasn't much taller than Jaune himself but he was incredibly well built, muscles bulging in all directions. His hair was dark grey and wiry, sticking out from his scalp and chin in thick, stiff tufts. The thundering noise of him coming down the stairs made sense now, his legs were equine, ending in large metal-shod hooves which banged and clanged with every step.

The man strode over to the chair behind the desk and threw himself into it, it span around with the momentum before coming to a stop as his hooves thumped onto the surface of his desk, the maker's mark of JCI Kovac emblazoned across the base of each hoof.

“So, my friend! What's this serious thing that's finally got you to visit your fellow apprentice ey? Got summat ta do with the brat I’d wager.”

Phos smiled and flopped into one of the office’s other chairs.

“Right you are ya goat-“

“Horse.”

“As I was saying, goat-“

Jeklo rolled his eyes with a good natured huff.

“Jaune here is my Apprentice.”

Jeklo's eyes bugged.

“Oh, Brothers have mercy, the terror's teaching.”

“Like you can say anything, Mr Head of Blacksmithing.”

“Doctor”

Phos' face twisted.

“I'm not calling you doctor, that's just unsettling. Jaune, say hello.”

Jaune had been standing near the door awkwardly, unsure of what exactly to do.

“Umm, hello... Dr Kovac?”

The faunus waved his hand dismissively at Jaune.

“Just call me Jeklo, brat, everyone does. So you're the terror's apprentice ey? He been working you hard?”

“Yes and, um, it depends who you ask.”

Jeklo threw back his head and roared with laughter before turning to Phos.

“I like him. So! Whadda you need me for?”

“Bluntly?”

Phos reached into his coat and put the Blades onto Jeklo's desk with a solid clunk.

“The time has come for him to make some of these for himself. Though I made my gear myself I haven't made anything new in years, and I am far from practiced. Also, though I'm allowed to hold these I'm not allowed to forge them while not under supervision from someone who is.”

Jeklo picked up the blades, his face had gone from jovial to serious.

“Ya sure Phos? At his age?”

Phos pulled Jaune into his side.

“He's already been forced to use them on someone. It was creating Ignited Ashes that finally got me out of the slump from my first kill, hopefully this will do the same to him.”

“Right brat. Welcome to my workshop.”

The next day Jeklo took Jaune into his workshop. Though mostly a forge, Jeklo did do other things, like woodwork and stone carving, in the large room, so referred to it as a workshop. The different crafts were strictly split across the room.

“Your first lesson brat, is that you **will** get burned. We can reduce that risk as much as possible, but it will happen. Today, you will only watch me.”

Jeklo's forge space was densely packed, tools lay all across the walls, hammers and tongs of different types mostly, but clamps and other tools were in evidence. Belt grinders of different grains lay all along one wall and three different forges lay along another. The middle of the space was occupied by a power hammer and three anvils of different scales.  
However, the space was neatly ordered, when you were working with such heat, you couldn't afford to mess up.

“Depending on what you’re making, and what you’re making it out of, the forge, anvil, tools, even the liquid you quench it in to cool it down will change.”

Jaune's day was remarkably simple, he merely watched Jeklo. Though for Jaune it was simple, he could see how complicated the work actually was.

“You see brat, though strength is necessary, smithing isn't just hitting stuff as hard as you can. Much like combat, the most important part is control. You need to hit the metal in the right place, with the right force, at the right angle. However, unlike woodwork and stone carving, there are no mistakes. Even if a piece doesn't turn out how you want, the material isn't ruined. It can always be reforged into something new.”

Jeklo pointed at a chair in the corner.

“You see that? I made that while I was an apprentice. It was my first major solo piece. I was so proud with the back legs when I made it, but then when I went to slot the parts together I found the seat brace and backrest slots were in completely opposite directions. I thought it was a complete failure, but my master just quietly twisted them on their axis until the slots lined up. The twist in the back made it look even better.”

After a month Jeklo was letting Jaune heat things in the forge on his own, but Phos and Jaune were still sleeping in the hotel on the outskirts. Each day Phos would walk Jaune to Jeklo’s workshop via Sable Down’s Association office, before going off to do a mission in the area.

However today when Phos entered the Association office and approached the receptionist things were different.

“Anything unusual today?”

The receptionist was a fairly young man with red hair, the staff had grown used to Phos asking that question each day. The man tapped away on his keyboard.

“Not much, a ship's gone down in the Firth of Insvay, there's been a few sightings of a pair of Admiral Boardils hanging around Covenbright Cove... Oh, and a team of fresh Beacon graduates had a nasty encounter in east Vale over in Valenmoor. Only one of them made it out.”

Phos frowned.

“With respect... That's not particularly unusual.”

The man tapped a few keys.

“Yeah, but the guy was rambling about unusual Grimm. Apparently they looked like Beowolves, but didn't have any plating and bled red. Seems he just went into shock and was imagining stuff.”

Jaune noticed that Phos had gone deathly still.

“Jaune... I have to leave for a few weeks. Tell Jeklo to try and get you somewhere to live closer to the workshop.”

Phos had immediately fled the building in a billow of coattails, clutching his hat as he went, leaving Jaune alone.

The next two weeks were not fun for Jaune. His lessons with Jeklo were entertaining, true, and the normal school classes he'd been slotted into at Gipfel were, well, school. The reason he couldn't enjoy any of them however, was worry for Phos. This was the first time in months he had been separated from his master for any length of time, and the fear that Phos was either tired of training him or would get hurt on this mission, combined with the trouble he was still having over the events in Aspenbairn on the Wend and his discomfort with crowded cities, left him in a permanent state of anxiety that prevented him from focusing on his work.

Eventually Phos did return, sporting a new scar from his forehead down the side of his face to his chin to accompany his missing eye. However, despite Jaune's pleadings, he wouldn't say why this journey had been so important, nor what he had done.

By January, five months into Jaune's blacksmith training and seven months from his eleventh birthday, he was trusted enough to work the simple things on his own. Most of the time though Jeklo still loomed over his shoulder. He'd made a few throwaway knives and the like, but had yet to work with Siderite. Jeklo had pounded the process into his head though.

Not only was Siderite rare, it was bloody expensive, a single kilogram costing as much as an entire shipping container of Dust at the best of times. Not only that, it was finicky as hell to forge, requiring ridiculous conditions to come out sturdy enough to be used as a blade rather than just incredibly brittle. Seven different types of Dust – Burn, Chill, Spark, Force and Breeze for basic types, and then both Magnetic and Plasmoid, two rare and, again, expensive Dust types – had to applied in various quantities at difference stages in forging. The metal had to then be quenched in a mixture of oil, spark Dust and, for some reason, blood.  
Phos had gone on many missions over this time, disappearing for a few days at a time, then waltzing back in, but he never left for as long as that one time.   
The weather had turned cold, and snow fell daily on Sable Down. The snow lay thick on the ground in the academic district, but melted far above the industrial region and feel like rain on the covered walkways of the glowing black cathedral.

Jaune's time in actual school was going well. Phos had called in a favour with a teacher, a retired huntsman called Professor Opal, and as a result Jaune's education had been rapidly accelerated. In five months he had already caught up on the roughly two years of school that he'd missed. His brain was constantly fogged with all the new information pounded into it, but the results spoke for themselves. The students hadn't known what to make of Jaune, he was younger than any other student, though was taller than many. His unique situation left many of them unsure of how to behave around him, but they were genial at least. In his heart Jaune wasn't entirely sure they should be, after all he.... Nope. He had saved people, stop.

Jaune had suspected that his physical ability would deteriorate while not training his body 24/7.

He had not taken into account the physical effort involved in smithing.

The hours in the forge, and forced runs around the campus, meant he was in at least the same shape, if not better, than before his arrival.

He hadn’t slacked with combat training though, multiple sparring sessions with Phos, a few with one or two other Rogues or official Huntsmen Phos knew, but no real fights. Honestly... Jaune wasn't sure how he'd react in his next real fight.

Days blurred into weeks, weeks blurred into months, and as summer rolled around again, an extreme July heatwave blaring down on the city, a small crowd of students had gathered around the dusty square that Jaune and Phos had appropriated for training. It was interesting how the initial dismissal by the students of the young kid in their midst had turned into a sort of fondness as Jaune advanced through the curriculum, though not overly high scoring, he was worrying on material a few years above where he should be. Though secretly Jaune doubted how well it had actually sunk in. Older students would ruffle his hair in the hallways and younger ones would joke with him. However, now, as Phos and Jaune faced off with each other shirtless in the massive heat, the kids cheered on the pair of them in their spar. Jaune had grown even more, pushing over 5 feet at almost eleven, his chest and arms were noticeably muscled. He stood at one side of the ring, blunted knives in hand and bearing his scars, clawed arms, nicked ear and multiple little marks and scratches across his skin from multiple small injuries, not to mention a sizeable collection of burns from forging accidents.

On the other side Phos towered over him. Phos just scraped seven feet tall, leaving him taller than pretty much everyone. Where Jaune was muscular... Phos was ridiculous. Much like Jaune, Phos’ musculature was wiry and thin, rather than outsized and bulging like Aurum, but the definition showed everyone just how ridiculous Phos strength was. This was not to mention that the scars Phos had on display made Jaune's pale into insignificance. In addition to the ropy mess of his left forearm and the ruin of his left eye, his chest and back were crisscrossed with claw marks, blade slashes and bullet wounds, none of them were particularly serious compared to his arm and Jaune had seen them all before, but to the crowd they were shocking. The pair had been sparring for quite a while now, and both were sticky with sweat and panting.

Jaune's charge forward was met blade to blade by Phos', a swing at Jaune's face was deflected to the side by a quick slash, Jaune ducking into a slide to slash along Phos hamstring. That slash was thwarted by a kick to the chest that sent Jaune skidding across the dirt. The crowd gasped but Jaune stabbed his knife into the ground to slow himself down before throwing himself back at Phos. Dodging a stab Jaune grabbed Phos’ extended arm and leapt onto his teacher’s back, twisting the arm in his grasp into an armlock.

Phos threw himself onto his back, knocking the wind out of Jaune from the impact before springing back to his feet, grabbing Jaune by the upper arm and swinging him into the ground.

The crowd were looking shocked at the brutality, especially when Phos began laughing. The shock quickly turned to confusion when Jaune joined in, laughter weak and wheezy from his impact with the ground.

“Well done kid.”

Not only had Jaune managed to bring his knife across Phos' Achilles tendons as he hit the ground, but Phos had felt the other knife ram between his shoulder blades while Jaune was on his back.

“You land hits on me quite often now, at least when I'm going easy on you. You're ready. I'll talk to Jeklo, don't worry, I've racked up enough cash since we got here to pay for the materials.”

Jaune tried to reply, but his breath had yet to return so instead he let out a wheezy sounds of celebration as he raised a first in the air from his position on the ground.

Jaune's birthday evening was oppressively hot.  
A small lump of Siderite lay within the smallest and hottest of Jeklo's forges, The Dust fire augmented with Force and Breeze flaring purple. With long tongs Jaune extracted the metal to the anvil. Then hammer, hammer hammer, back to the forge, add Dust, hammer, hammer, hammer.

The process was long and arduous, from the early evening to the early morning. The Blades of Mercy were deceptively complicated in form, but eventually they lay on the anvil, starlight trapped in the tarnished depths. Even straight from the quench and dripping with oil and Phos' blood, it appeared timeless and unknowable, danger dancing on its edge and soaking through its form.

The Blades were forged, and they were Jaune's.

**\--------------- Hunter Files --------------  
**

_Siderite  
_

Star-Steel is as tied to the Heirs of The Moon Reborn as their duty. Siderite is rare due to its origin, the title Star-Steel is deserving, it is not found naturally on Remnant, instead only acquired from meteor strikes or other more... Arcane means. It drains aura on contact, slows blood clotting and wound healing, and acts as a medium for Contact.

Since time immemorial the Heirs and their predecessors have wielded weapons of Celestial Iron, though not every weapon they have used is made of such. Though all traditional weapons of the workshop can, and indeed have, been forged of Siderite, only two are traditionally made of such.

The Blades of Mercy, traditional weapons of the Crows, peacekeepers and inquisitors of the old order, required the aura-sapping properties of the Dream-Ore. In the years since the catastrophe of the Oscuras expedition the Blades have become training and backup weapons to the Heirs.

The Burial Blade, weapon of the Honoured Predecessor, though a fairly rare weapon due to the immense quantity of Siderite required for its construction, it is well regarded among the Heirs.

Other than the traditional two, many notable Heirs have forged their weapons from the material. These include the nuts, spines and plating of the Logarius Wheel of Grandmaster Vulner Wolfskin that saw him through the catastrophe. The specific origins of the name 'Logarius' is unknown.

The Beast Claws of Mad Heath Herr, the Great Shame, were plated in Siderite, and this was what made him so hard for the order to restrain.

However, Siderite does not a good Heir make. The Kirkhammer of Slate Haile and the Holy Blade of Yale Exhume both being made of other, more mundane, materials, and the actions of Heath Herr show that even the greatest of Heirs can still stumble in their duty. Nonetheless, a Siderite weapon is a useful tool in the arsenal of any Heir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! We may have gone through this year in Sable Down rather fast, but I have zero clue about how blacksmithing really works sooooo...
> 
> Anyway, next chapter we begin to focus on the first real planned Arc (hehe) and we may encounter a certain season on it...
> 
> As to Neo's status. All that is decided is that she'll be close to Jaune. Friend, honorary sibling, significant other... All up in the air.
> 
> Again, the little shameless plug. I have been working on a different RWBY related project, which (when in a releasable state) will be published on the YouTube channel 'Combat Ready Studios', current home of the RWBY spinoff EDWS (Edelweiss). So, if my stories have in any way interested you, I really request you check that out. We also have a Discord at "https://discord.gg/hQYwAd6"  
> Just note that my stories on here have nothing really to do with what goes on in there. We now have all the models needed for the first trailer so that's good.
> 
> Current ranks in the poll:
> 
> Weapon:  
> • The Burial Blade - 10  
> • The Rakuyo - 6
> 
> Voters for the poll:
> 
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Lagzal, Cegorach, Niho, N1njapanda15, Rogue_eL, REGIKING, Axccel, Ya Boy, MindsandMirrors, Sir_Wobblefish, Twinfire, xXkapow1227Xx, Icarus720.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, Kudos and comments are always appreciated, and if you have interest feel free to vote in the wespon poll. Just please keep it to one entry per person.


	10. Sable Down 2: Applications and Associations

Jaune's Blades of Mercy bore little difference from Phos’, the weapons of the Heirs didn't seem to vary at all from their ancient blueprints. Tried and tested Jaune supposed, effectiveness over flashiness. Jaune didn't yet have a firearm, but since he had no clue how to use one that was fine.

Currently he was sat on a wrought iron chair in Sable Down's Association Building. The building was right in the middle of the industrial District, it was a towering edifice of iron and brick and, much like the Gran Arbor branch, the interior was incredibly ornate.

Jaune's knee was jumping up and down with nerves, but Phos quickly put his hand on it to calm him.

“Jaune Arc!”

Someone had stuck their head out from a door on the far wall and called for Jaune. Shaking slightly Jaune stood and walked over, Phos on his heels.

Through the door was a simple room with a desk, and three chairs. The association worker, an elderly fox faunus, sat down in one of the chairs beside the desk and waved Jaune to the other, Phos sitting in the chair by the door.

“Please fill out this application form.”

The form was relatively short and simple, it was pretty much just personal information; name, date of birth (29th of September 62 AVT), home address, whether or not that was a permanent residence, tick boxes for possession of aura or the like, length of training (2-and-a-half-ish years) etc. It wasn't difficult. At the bottom of the page was a section about mentors that required proof.

“Phos, what's your association number?”

“7349-7A26-BG51-HOTMR”

“That's... Long.”

Phos smirked.

“Longer than normal. Most operatives have 8 digit numbers, the third group of four is because I graduated Beacon, Beacon Graduate year of 51. The fourth group is due to our order, groups registered with the association are given priority for some jobs, or can be requested for specific tasks. Make sure to note down Jeklo and Professor Opal too, the Association will contact them to verify your connection. Oh, if there's a recommendation section still you should note Candleson and Vellum too. Can never have too many qualifications.”

Jaune continued filling out the form, noting his association with the Heirs of the Moon Reborn, and writing down his current weapon.

“Phos? I need to say I have permission to own the blades right?”

The Association representative decided to interject.

“Most weapons are fine, it's only if they're prone to collateral damage or illegal-“

“They're Siderite.”

The representative all but leapt from his seat and plastered himself to the wall.

“Holy-“

Phos sighed.

“Don't worry, we have permission. Jaune, note down that the Blades are made of Siderite, then in the permissions section write 'See the 452 BVT (15 IL) Bill of Valean Knightly Orders, Section 7-8.2, paragraphs nine and thirty, Section 9-5.9, paragraphs six through thirty four’ then note the Vytal Treaty Section 95.7 'The Equal Authority and Jurisdiction of Official Paramilitary Organisations Act’. That should cover you, just make sure to actually note your association with the Heirs of the Moon Reborn.”

“Already did.”

The rest of the form was fairly simple, he had no disabilities that would interfere with duties, and the last page was just a massive disclaimer. 

“The Rogues Association, affiliated organizations, businesses and/or personages (hereafter 'The Association’ or 'Association’, we, our), are not responsible for loss of limb, life, livelihood, home, family, possession, blood or any other misfortune that may befall operatives while undergoing Association arranged duties. Unless such misfortune is found to be due to failure of Association operatives to abide by the Association’s employee guidelines. Nevertheless, The Association maintains its stated care for operatives, insofar that such bodily and mental misfortunes, such situations as injury and grief (etc), shall be aided by the Operative Support department of the Association. Monetary issue and other problems shall be handled case to case...”

Honestly, most of the disclaimer went right over Jaune's head, the full thing got really complicated. But Phos trusted it, sooo.

At the base of the final page Jaune signed his name and handed the paper back to the representative.  
The representative looked it over briefly, before taking out a large stamp and imprinting in big red letters across the paper 'ACCEPTED’.

“So... What now?”

The representative looked at him.

“Well, you'll be able to collect your license from the front desk tomorrow-“

“Wait, is that really all there is to the entry?”

Phos stepped forward, chuckling.

“Sort of Jaune. There are technically two kinds of G rank. You know how I told you that not every Rogue job is hunting Grimm? Well there are some people who join the association who only do non-combative jobs, for those people it's more of a way to earn money and gain skills while searching for permanent employment than becoming a huntsman. No matter the skill, those people are always G rank, and by default everyone is placed in that category. As such, Mr...? Ah, never mind, representative person, can we set up a combat evaluation test for Jaune here please.”

“Are you sure? Examiners are not liable for acci-“

“Sir, Jaune here participated in the Aspenbairn Escort a year ago, that was turned into a B rank mission due to the number of opponents, time frame and large civilian escort. I plan to have that mission retroactively added to Jaune's record, I am confident he can handle the combat evaluation.”

The representative bowed his head.

“As you wish.”

He quickly left the room.

“Phos, why did he know about the village?”

“Aspenbairn’s evacuation is pretty well known here now. It's rare for that many people to survive a bandit attack of that scale, let alone an evacuation over such a distance. Enough of the villagers stayed around to let stories spread. It's probably a good thing you've spent most of the year in the school, otherwise I'm sure people would be recognising you. Candleson and Vellum couldn't stop praising you. Don't be surprised if some Rogues are able to identify you in the future, I didn't expect you to have started gathering a following already, but it's rare for people your age to be an active participant in a Huntsman’s stories.”

“Oh. That's... Good?”

Phos smiled.

“Don't sweat it, a good reputation is always helpful, even at your age.”

The representative stuck his head back into the room.

“There's a brief test on some weak Grimm you can do now, and a local D rank has volunteered to oversee a spar between you and another person trying to qualify for combat in order to determine your skill.”

The test was frankly disappointing. It was barely a page of A4. The questions were both simple and few in number, only addressing the bare minimum of the big dangers when facing Vale’s weak Grimm. He could understand somewhat. Based on what Phos had told him, G rank 'combat’ missions tended to be more 'standing guard on a wall for hours’ rather than fighting. It seemed that, due to it being the first rank, your experience was considered heavily when being allowed to choose jobs. Luckily, Jaune had Phos as a mentor, meaning he could get around the boring G rank jobs.

It didn't take long before Jaune was in the ring. The D rank supervising the match was about 40 years old, short and suffering from unfortunate balding. Phos didn't recognise them, so they weren't particularly well known, albeit, few below B rank were. Jaune's opponent however, was a man in his young twenties, and Phos was immediately disdainful. The man had taken one look at Jaune and laughed, judging him instantly by his age. Had the man been skilled Phos wouldn't have minded, but just from observing him Phos could tell that he wasn't just a novice, he was a novice who thought himself an expert. The way he held and carried his sword looked like he had never picked them up before today. His armour was clean and unblemished, obviously recently bought, and was incorrectly fastened.

Nonetheless Phos was slightly worried, not particularly for Jaune's skill level, it seemed that Jaune was far and away the other guy's superior (though he may be wrong of course), but rather for his mental state. Jaune's experience in Aspenbairn still hung over him, and Phos feared that fighting someone other than him again would bring it to the forefront. He had made Jaune go up against other Huntsmen he knew the few times such people passed through Sable Down, and honestly the reaction was a bit hit or miss. It did seem to be following an overall positive tend though, which was good.

Jaune's opponent started with a sloppy swing towards Jaune's neck, Jaune's dodge was far too early, used to the speed of combat with Phos, but the enemy’s skill level meant he completely missed the opening this provided. Jaune had been tense as the bout started, this was important after all, but after a few more interactions, all consisting of Jaune easily avoiding his opponent’s clumsy attacks, he began to get bored, this was less intense than any spar for over a year. With a disappointed glare Jaune drew the Blades of Mercy and blocked a sword swing with one hand.

The opponent wasn’t particularly strong, but it was testament to the effort he had expended that the attack barely even phased him. Stepping forward, Jaune just wanted to send this farce. With a crack like a cannon shoot Jaune's fist thumped onto the man's gut. With the wind knocked out of him the man fell to his knees, held up by Jaune's hand around his wrist, still grasping the Blades. Jaune's hand again lashed out, the man's nose crunched under the punch, and Jaune felt hot wetness across his knuckles.

“Jaune Arc, you have permission to take combat missions. Albert Aster, you do not. Please feel free to retake the evaluation once your skills have improved. In the mean time, feel free to utilise our infirmary.”

Jaune would have responded, but all his attention was locked to his right hand. It was held stiff to his side, but Jaune could tell what it would look like, the sticky red stain binding together his fingers. He could smell it, that heady aroma of iron and _life_ , it suffused his head. He caused that. He spilled it. ... Could he justify that? ... Did he... Enjoy it? He enjoyed the fight? Was that the same thing? Huntsmen did fight people, he knew that, it wasn't just Grimm, was spilling blood ok in their work? He'd bled before, the chunk missing from his ear that stared at him from the mirror was proof of that, the claw marks on his arm too – where could he draw the line between justified blood and criminal blood? Was there a line? The blood was all the same really, just everything else around it changed. Maybe the spilling of blood wasn’t the important part, maybe it was what else he was doing. This... Would require a lot of thought.

Honestly? Phos thought that could have gone far worse. He could tell Jaune had stiffened up afterwards, but having problems after the opponent was out of commission was at least safer than having problems during the fight. All Heirs went through something similar, they had to get used to blood eventually - and that generally entailed many years of practically bathing in it. It got better after a while, but the fight never truly stopped. If it did... That Hunter was lost.

Jaune now needed to experience the job. A few simple missions in a small town, that would be best. After he got Jaune cleaned up, Phos went to survey the Bounty Boards, well, the mission boards. Despite the commonly used term, the boards were in no way only for bounties. One advantage for Jaune was, as he was being actively mentored, there were a plethora of F and low E rank jobs he could take in addition to the G rank, so long as Phos was always around to keep him safe. Though ostensibly stated as needing to complete a certain number of missions to go up a rank, in reality each mission was given a numerical value for both its expected difficulty and duration. The difficulty was used to determine what rank the mission was, and both numbers were then used to create a value for the job. It was a bit more complex than that, as same length jobs may be worth more length points at higher values... Phos didn't claim to know the full system, but essentially you had to earn a certain number of points each rank. The number of points each mission was worth varied in each rank, but it was an exponential scale – a high F rank job was worth double a high G rank, and a high E rank double a high F, so effectively a high E was worth 4 times a high F.

In situations like Jaune's, where he were talking higher rank missions under strict supervision, the number of points earned would be reduced by 25% as a flat penalty, and further reduced based on how much Phos had to help.

Avoiding all the details, what it meant was that Phos could scour the database for a town with a reasonable number of G, F and E rank jobs, and take them all for Jaune – being careful that they could actually complete them all in time.

Phos picked up five jobs for Jaune to do over the next month in a town to the south east called Ebontark, in the province of King Brandon's Claim, and one B rank for him to do afterwards.

The most significant was an E rank Search and Destroy. A Beowolf nest, home to several confirmed Alphas and at least one Elder – Phos didn't expect Jaune to complete this. It was meant to be an experience, to show just how far he still had to go. Jaune could probably take out an alpha, honestly he'd been working him up against older and older Grimm during his forest training, but three together? No. Let alone an Elder. Honestly, Jaune taking E rank missions was idiotic. There was a reason that the association normally didn't allow operatives to take missions above their rank.

Other than that there were two G and two F ranks. The F ranks were filling in for a guard on maternity leave for a few weeks until they could find someone to fill the post longer term and dealing with a pair of Ursa who had been spotted in the vicinity. The G ranks were aiding with constructing a house (which would substitute some training, get him used to the non-combat missions, and let him gain some points on the way) and thinning a very small creep population from a nearby mining outpost.

Phos’ own mission was a couple of villages away, a massive Taurochs herd seemed to have decided to move up into King Brandon's Claim from nearby Valenmoor. The claim was much more densely populated than the open wilderness of Valenmoor, and the herd was far more of a problem.

It was hard to say, due to the points boost from the Aspenbairn incident and using the mentor system, but Phos suspected Jaune would have to take a good 70-90 jobs to get up to G rank. Most of the ranks took a roughly equal time to gain, but G to F was often faster since it was basically a tutorial, and if you put effort in and proved you were skilled, the association wanted you taking higher ranked jobs.

The trip to the town was quick and uneventful, the Association was able to arrange passage on a bullhead already scheduled to pass in that direction, meaning the greatest event of the trip was Jeklo and Jaune saying goodbye, which entailed a of patting on the back apparently. Jaune also received two advantageous offers as well, one from Jeklo, the other, surprisingly (at least to Phos) from Professor Opal. Phos hadn't realised the impact Jaune had made on the teacher. Jeklo volunteered to continue Jaune's lessons if he wanted to in the future, maybe even get him certified, whereas Opal arranged to give Jaune full access to the Gipfel School’s online resources, essentially allowing him to continue his studies from anywhere on his scroll.

... Speaking of, Phos needed to get Jaune a scroll.

Ebontark was a small town, too large for being called a village, but almost too small for its designation. The association branch was a similarly small building, essentially the public section was a single room with a reception desk and a mission board. The two booked a room for a month in an inn on the high street and set to contacting Jaune's jobs. The Guard Captain Jaune had to report to was an energetic man with an obvious short temper, sporting the most impressive moustache Phos had ever seen, the bright orange hair stuck horizontally sideways from his nose before turning a sharp right angle to point vertically upwards.

“I see. Filling in for Flora eh? I know it's not a particularly demanding job, but what use is a brat gonna be? Bah! Well, you took it I suppose. Two three hour daily shifts, Tuesdays and Saturdays off. Times vary. And no slacking! If I have to beat that into another recruit's head... You'll be following Shale, Flora's husband. He’ll teach you the ropes, report back here at 2100 hours for your first shift.”

In the meantime, Jaune went off to help with the construction job. The house was already underway, the foundations laid out, and the frame being slowly put into place, Jaune wasn't the only Rogue there, two other G ranks were helping out. While the others moved around the big wooden frame, Jaune got himself a position laying bricks, and kept at that for a while. The work was dull, but it was effective training and Jaune didn't mind it. Frankly, he agreed with Phos, if there was construction work going on somewhere you'd be for a while, you may as well take it, it'll be good for both you and your rank. Not to mention the residents.

The Search and Destroys would require his free days. So other than confirming information at the association branch he did nothing with them.

Shale was not the sort of person Jaune expected when he thought of guardsmen. Though Jaune's knew his image wasn’t right since his sister was a guard. Shale was thin, blond haired, and looked like he spent more time in a workshop than fighting, his clothes stained with oil.

“Most guard forces have a uniform but, uh, we don't bother really. Well, there is one, but it's not required. What's your experience with firearms?”

Jaune winced.

“I don't have any? Is that a problem?”

Shale smiled.

“Not at all. Few G ranks are experts, and we expected the person who took our request not to have much. I'll give you some practice later, but for now just walk the walk with me and keep a look out. Grimm, bandits, whatever.”

Honestly the patrol was pretty relaxing. He walked slowly around, his eyes on the surrounding forest. He pointed out the occasional Grimm to Shale, but with the exception of one that decided to try it's luck and got a bullet to the forehead in return, they all just turned away, deeming the town too much effort.

The next day was much the same, with an added daytime patrol. He did more bricklaying, the supervisors noticed his strength and had him carry some stuff around as well, before getting some firearm training with Shale. Phos approved of this, but noted to Jaune that, much like everything else, the Heirs took an unusual stance on firearms, so a lot of what he learned past the basics wouldn't be as useful to him later on.

The day after followed the same again, but after that came Jaune's free day. In order to start on his other missions, he arranged to skip his stint at the construction site in exchange for double shifts next free day, and set off with Phos towards the big Beowolf nest.

**\--------------- Hunter Files --------------  
**

_Provinces of Vale  
_

Modern Valean territory, and indeed the territories of the other three kingdoms, is far too large to be governed purely under the title of Vale. This is a long standing problem dating back hundreds of years with one elegant solution, the provinces. The Valean territory is divided into 23 areas, grouped under four overarching, larger territories. These four large territories are known as Central Vale, North Vale, Inner Vale and Outer Vale. Central Vale consists of all provinces within the Vale Mountains, the large range that keeps the core of the kingdom safe from Grimm. It ostensibly consists of 10 provinces, though three of these are hard to distinguish. By name these are:

• Central Vale  
• Seaboard  
• The Palisade  
• Patch  
• The Strip  
• Silent Hills  
• Greenspar  
• Highpeak  
• Grey Crags  
• Forever Fall

North Vale consists of four provinces in the North of Vale’s territory, these are all on the eastern side of this region, as the far west of Sanus wasn’t well settled when these provinces were named. By name the provinces of North Vale are:

• King Vandal's Claim  
• Northfields  
• Otembaer  
• Vytal

Inner Vale consists of five provinces in the heart of Sanus. These stretch from the Western regions of the Vale mountains to press up against the Green Spine mountains that form the border between Vale and Vacuo. The four large provinces in this territory are almost square, and all form corners at the lonely Mount Sentinel, which holds the smaller fifth province. By name these provinces are:

• King Brandon's Claim  
• Valenmoor  
• Outland  
• Covenbright  
• Douron Hall

Finally Outer Vale consists of the rest of Valean territory, most of the south coast, bar that occupied by Inner Vale, the Tourmaline Woods, the remains of the nations of Marbel, Fluchtling and the Eastern Alliance all lie in this very large territory. This is by far the wildest territory. By name the provinces here are:

• Gran Arbor  
• The Millenbairn Sand Sea  
• Tourmaline  
• Inlaat

Central Vale is the oldest territory in the kingdom, the first provinces; Central Vale, Seaboard, The Palisade and Grey Crags, were set up in around 460 BVT (Before Vytal Treaty), based on and named for the four big cities of the nation at the time. Each of these nations was ruled by a branch of Vale’s ruling family, with the exception of Seaboard, formerly known as Dale, as their branch, the Brackens, had been ousted from the throne by the Dalean Wars of Succession a few years prior, in favour of the Prasinos family of Vale. Seaboard, situated north of the region's main river, was thus ruled by the Visser family who had been loyal to Vale, while the Arcadia and Chester families kept control of The Palisade to the south of the river and Grey Crags in the mountains upstream of Vale respectively.

In the years that followed other noble families would establish cities and thus provinces within the Vale Mountains, leading to Greenspar (just south of Central Vale), Forever Fall (just north) and Silent Hills (South east along the coast), ruled by the Instar, Scarlatine and Murcielago families respectively. It was then that the provinces started to specialise, the Palisade became an industrial powerhouse, Seaboard focused hard on its ports, Greenspar went agricultural and Silent Hills basically became Vale’s graveyard.

Grey Crags went from mining post to military stronghold, necessitating the founding the province of Highpeak, ruled by the Gipfel family, in the mountains to the south. Forever Fall wasn’t really sure what to do, much like the soon established provinces of Patch (under the Rosa family) and The Strip (under the Burydine family). Patch was a small island, while the Strip was the one unclaimed patch of land left within the mountains. In the far south west, it was pressed up between the mountains and the sea, and has remained sort of unsure of itself to this day.

These shifts in purpose caused some political turmoil, Vale’s nobility was pseudo-elective, each family having roughly three branches. Every five years the populace would vote one of these branches into office. Of course the branches focused on supporting different people, and as the people shifted so did the balance of power. The Chesters of Grey Crags were replaced by the Winchesters, and the Arcadias of The Palisade by the Arcs.

By 321 BVT, Vale was being constricted by the mountains, and Brandon 'The Bear King' Prasinos, Second of his Name, decided he wanted another feather in the cap of his reign, and so claimed a large block of territory to the south of the mountains, just through one of the main mountain passes, this became King Brandon's Claim, and was later ruled by the Brantark family, a branch founded by Brandon's second son. It is in this province that the ill-fated Mountain Glenn was established.

This province pressed up against the borders of the nation of Grieg within Mount Sentinel.

Later, with the kingdom running low on food production, they claim the province of Northfields (under the Palebarrow family), this lies outside the mountains across a treacherous inlet called the Firth of Insvay. It is also dangerously close to the raider nation of Otembaer and several incidents occur. Over the next 70 years people slowly drift into settling West of King Brandon’s Claim, in the land that would become Outland and Valenmoor, but these provinces are not created until the Alexian Reformation occurs in Vale between 256 and 252 BVT. Among overhauling laws, nobility, currency and many other things, King Alexios the Third’s massive Magnum Opus, defined the modern day borders of the existing provinces, and ratified Outland and Valenmoor under the Angel and Bracken families respectively.

After a conflict between 225 and 224 BVT, known as The Farmer’s War, between Vale and Otembaer, over the latter raiding overseas food shipments from Northfields, King Vandal, The Scourge of Pirates, First of his name, (who spent a lifetime at odds with the raider nation) claims the land around the northern pass of the Vale Mountains to the border of Northfields in 202 BVT, so food can be transported overland. This becomes King Vandal's Claim, and is ruled by the Barbarossa family.

In 198 BVT the nation of Grieg, still drastically weakened by the decisive battle of the Grimm Crusades back in 273 BVT, falls to a Grimm horde led by a gigantic wyvern Grimm. Almost 70 years later in 129 BVT, the old royalty of Grieg, the Port family, begin a campaign sponsored by Vale to reclaim their home, succeeding in driving away the wyvern by 124 BVT. Morelheim, the former capital of Grieg, is renamed to Douron Hall, and becomes a Valean Province.

In 102 BVT, slap bang in the middle of the Vacuan Colonisation Wars that ran from 124 to 99 BVT, the nation of Otembaer is integrated into Vale after a royal marriage known as the Raider Marriage. Later in 61 BVT, the island nation of Vytal does the same in a marriage known as The Marriage of Eyes.

Thus far we have addressed Central, North and Inner Vale, but fortunately Outer Vale is simpler. Gran Arbor was founded just before the Great War, but events in that part of Sanus kicked off the war before the region was colonized. After the war the rebuilt Gran Arbor became a province, the region to the west was named after the small desert there, the region known for once being the site of the Eastern Alliance, a group of five nations that migrated to their Animan colonies during the Grimm Crusades was named for one of their number, Inlaat, and the rest was just lumped under Tourmaline, for the Tourmaline Woods. These had no ruling families, because, with the exception of Gran Arbor (just) they were founded after the abolition of feudalism.

After the war, several provinces lost their main capitals, among these were Forever Fall, Northfields, Valenmoor, King Vandal's Claim and The Strip. As a consequence of the war and the lost cities, the city of Vale's population skyrocketed, not to mention a worldwide baby boom. The rapidly bloating city eventually subsumed the Palisade and Seaboard, thus why I said some provinces are hard to discern, forcing the movement of The Palisade’s industry to Sable Down.

The only province I haven't mentioned is Covenbright, ruled by the Candlewick family, mostly because no one knows when it became part of Vale, it's one of the greatest historical mysteries, as there is evidence of it being part of Vale even before the founding of Greenspar, which given its distance (being on the south coast) seems unlikely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop! Chapter!
> 
> ... I may have gone overboard on the Hunter Files this time, but eh.
> 
> Again, the little shameless plug. I have been working on a different RWBY related project, which (when in a releasable state) will be published on the YouTube channel 'Combat Ready Studios', current home of the RWBY spinoff EDWS (Edelweiss). So, if my stories have in any way interested you, I really request you check that out. We also have a Discord at "https://discord.gg/hQYwAd6"  
> Just note that my stories on here have nothing really to do with what goes on in there. We now have all the models needed for the first trailer so that's good.
> 
> Current ranks in the poll:
> 
> Weapon:  
> • The Burial Blade - 12  
> • The Rakuyo - 7
> 
> Voters for the poll:
> 
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Lagzal, Cegorach, Niho, N1njapanda15, Rogue_eL, REGIKING, Axccel, Ya Boy, MindsandMirrors, Sir_Wobblefish, Twinfire, xXkapow1227Xx, Icarus720, darkravenight, DRahven, Sansman.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


	11. Ebontark 1: The Shape of Things to Come

The forests around Ebontark seemed oddly small to Jaune, after all he'd grown used to the towering wooden monoliths of the Tourmaline Woods, not the denser undergrowth of western Vale.

As the two walked through the foliage, Phos would occasionally point out evidence of something passing through the region. Even now Jaune's training wasn’t on pause, it was all very well being able to kill Grimm, but if you can't find them in the first place you’re gonna have problems. Bark knocked off a tree, twigs and grass bent out of shape, the remains of a pawprint in the dry mud.

Jaune was tense, Phos had explained the danger of this mission, stressing that he didn't expect Jaune to complete this alone, and frankly wouldn't be surprised if he had to take over completely. Jaune wasn't stupid, he understood that an E rank mission was so far above his pay grade right now that even attempting it was pretty foolhardy, but whether Phos ended up doing everything or not, Jaune wanted to give it his best shot.

As the pair went deeper into the woods, the signs of the Grimm multiplied. While Grimm tend to ignore all living things bar humans, the areas around nests often showed levels of destruction, as the Grimm cleared the area around their base. Whether this was done intelligently – to prevent ambush or something similar – or just due to the Grimm lashing out randomly wasn’t really known and honestly mattered little.

Eventually the pair came to a small clearing, within the clearing was a cave, and surrounding it was a pack of five Beowolves that had already detected Phos and Jaune. They were stood in front of the entrance on all fours with hackles raised and teeth bared.

“Jaune, I'll let you try this first group on your own. These ones are all young and wouldn't be much of a problem.”

While Jaune had fought multiple Grimm before, with the exception of the horde in the Aspenbairn evacuation, he’d never tried more than three. This would be interesting.

As the Beowolves already knew he was there Jaune lacked the element of surprise, but he knew that attempting to take on five Grimm at his level head on was foolhardy. 

Jaune approached slowly, hands empty, inching into the clearing. The Beowolves, while not old, were experienced enough not to run in. This boy, though scared, was not panicking, and a lack of panic usually meant danger. As Jaune entered the clearing he began to creep around the edge, the beasts moving in tandem to match.

After a few meters the Grimm had had enough, and with a gruff bark the oldest, or at least largest and most weathered, of the five, gave the order to attack. With reflexes honed by Phos' speed, Jaune drew and split the Blades, throwing one at the lead Grimm as he leapt back towards one of the trees, grasping a branch and swinging himself out of reach.

The thrown blade caught in the lead Grimm’s shoulder, inciting a roar of pain and anger, but not stopping the Grimm in the slightest.

As the Beowolves reached the tree they assaulted it with splintering ferocity. Jaune used the resultant swaying of the tree to leap from the branches into the air above the back of the injured Beowolf in the center, his remaining blade held out to his left ready.

As he fell, the four Grimm to either side turned towards him and began to lunge. As the leaping Grimm accidentally revealed their undersides to Jaune, he stabbed his blade into the left Grimm’s throat and dragged down to its navel. Meanwhile, as soon as it was in reach Jaune grabbed the knife embedded in the shoulder of the Grimm below him, and tore it across the back of his mount and through the gut of the Grimm to his right, simultaneously slicing one’s spine and disembowelling the other.

The final two Grimm smashed into the backs of their dying comrades, only damaging their corpses further. The claws of the dead Grimm missed Jaune by barely a whisker, with the exception of one that scored a thin line just right of his right eye. The corpses practically collapsed on Jaune, weighing him down as he attempted to roll out backwards. With a little grunting and wiggling Jaune managed to extract himself from the pile before the surviving Grimm could reach him. Panting slightly, he faced them down calculatingly.

Grimm may be able to sense emotions, but few are highly intelligent, knowing this, Jaune began to pretend that he had injured his leg. He avoided putting weight on it, and then he took a step, wincing and stumbling as he did so.

One of the Grimm fell for it, and received a blade in the eye for its troubles, which was quickly twisted to pulp the contents of the skull plate.

Jaune turned to the final Grimm, one on ones he could handle well. He charged in, a swipe coming from the left that he ducked below, dashing forward to gouge a deep furrow up its thigh. This lead to a pained bellow that was cut short by a sharp blade across the throat.

Jaune initially felt pleased with how that had gone, but when he looked up after a brief pant that happiness began to fade. At the edge of the clearing, held at bay by wariness of Phos and Ignited Ashes, was a far larger group of Grimm. At least twenty Beowolves were prowling the treeline, the unmistakable spiky bone of an alpha among them.

“Important lessons Jaune. While Grimm do have their emotion sense, they are often still strong with the others. When picking off small groups from a large pack, it's generally best to make as little noise as possible. Also, no matter the fight, always remain aware of your surroundings. You never know when an enemy-“

With a roar, a young Beowolf sprang out of the woods at the back Phos had exposed to talk to Jaune. Phos immediately spun around, the heft of his axe biting deep into the Grimm, before the force ripped it from the weapon and sent it careening into a tree.

“-may try to get the drop on you.”

Phos lengthened his axe's handle and took a stance.

“I'll control them for now, I'll send them through in small groups, this is training as much as any rock lifting.”

As the next Grimm ran in, Phos slid out of the way and grabbed it by the scruff on the back of its neck, before throwing it in Jaune’s general direction.

Though Jaune made sure to remain aware of Phos’ fighting, especially as he would occasionally yeet a Beowolf at his apprentice, he was more focused on the Grimm he had to fight. Initially the combat was easy – one or two Beowolves was far more manageable than five, but after a shaft of meteoric iron to the brainstem took out his nineteenth total Beowolf this trip, the fatigue and mental strain were beginning to set in. He noticed a fog occasionally clouding his thoughts, and his limbs hurt.

Five more and he was almost ready to drop.

“Last one kid!”

With that Jaune turned to face his last opponent, with relief on his face that quickly turned to despair when he saw it. It was the Alpha. A good foot taller than the others, heavily plated and spiked, it's eyes gleaming with an intelligence that stood at odds with its brethren. Gathering himself, Jaune forced his mind to ignore his aching muscles and the many scrapes, cuts and bruises he had accrued. With a grace Jaune was surprised he still had in him, the child danced out of the way of a simple swing from the beast, but his retaliatory slash merely glanced off thick plating on the monster's thigh.

Dodging another swing, Jaune instead focused on scoring a strike to the poorly armoured areas of the arm. A successful attack left a superficial, but obviously painful scratch up the alpha’s forearm. As the creature lunged in for a bite, Jaune attempted to plant his blade in the roof of its mouth, but a quick shift left the blade skittering across the face plate.

The exchange continued for several minutes, until a lucky break allowed Jaune to slide a blade into the back of the beast’s leg mid-kick. The cut sliced through something important, and left the Grimm unable to properly stand. As it collapsed to its knees it let out a bellow at Jaune that was merely met by an outsized knife to the back of the throat.

As the Alpha died, Jaune fell back, tired out of his mind. Bodies littered the clearing, the initial five only now beginning to dissolve. Jaune turned his head to look to Phos, only to see his teacher leaning against a tree, the only Grimm corpse in sight being the one Jaune had seen him take out with his axe earlier.

“Congratulations kid, you just took out twenty four Beowolves and an Alpha. That's third year combat school stuff, and people your age are generally just entering the thing. This lot is probably about a third of the total Grimm in this nest, so be happy. Ya did good. But, eh, you probably want to take a picture. We do need proof, and those first five are getting close to disintegration so...”

Phos pulled Jaune to his feet and moved him to the middle of the group, kicking a few corpses closer to the middle, but ensuring they were countable, before taking a picture on his scroll.

“Fair warning, I'm going to be sending that picture to Aurum as well.”

Jaune was still too tired to really respond, but the idea of the picture being sent to his parents both made him feel proud and embarrassed – after all, he knew how skilled his father was, and this didn't really compare.

After Phos gave Jaune five or so minutes to recover, the two pressed on, Jaune still tired, but mobile.

“I'll deal with the remaining Grimm, Jaune. You just concentrate on observing.”

After a short walk, the pair arrived at a cave entrance in a low cliff.

“This is it Jaune, Grimm often shelter in caves. Even soulless monsters don't seem to like the rain much, not to mention they probably subconsciously realise that it offers them protection. Stay back by the trees, but stay alert, I don't know whether there are any other groups outside the nest like the one earlier.”

Jaune slowly pulled himself into one of the nearby trees, now that he was recovered enough to do so. Having seen that his Apprentice had secured himself, Phos drew his axe and gun, and levelled a massive swing into the edge of the cave entrance. The ringing of metal on stone this produced was immense, and answered in kind by a chorus of howls. Within the cave the darkness seemed to writhe with malcontent, before surging forward to meet Phos. With a thundering retort Embers Burst spat a hail of shrapnel into the approaching tide, eliciting a harmonious bellow of pained shrieks and howls from the Grimm surging forth.

As the tide crossed the cave threshold into the light, the lead beast was met with an upswing from ignited ashes that cut its head clean in half from the lower jaw through to the top of its skull. Phos launched into a roundhouse kick that simultaneously moved the corpse out the way and slammed two more Grimm into the cave wall to the sound of splintering bone. The spin continued, his axe lengthening until the rotational force of the head at the end could crush stone. The momentum of the head carried it through Grimm after Grimm, until the survivors began to back off. Bringing the spin to an end, Phos casually swung the axe towards the crowd, a trail of black blood arcing from the blade’s path. With a click of his fingers, Phos used his semblance to ignite the blood, which landed with a hissing splatter across the front line of the wary beasts.

The liquid fire caught with a ferocity, the black fur combusting gold and crimson, and the Grimm let out an unholy shriek. Half mad with pain and rage, the burning Beowolves leapt forwards, where they were met with steel and buckshot, or thrown back to ignite their fellows.

After ten minutes, the black tide was gone, and only three Grimm remained in the cave. The two alphas, and the elder. With a sharp growl, the imposing shadow of the elder, deep within the gloom, picked up an alpha in each hand, and threw them at Phos. One was met with an axe blade to the forehead, and quickly passed. The other was dismembered in short order, and disposed of by a gunshot to the back of the head.

Growling softly, the elder prowled out of the cave, unfolding from its crouch as it did. Jaune couldn't tell its height, but it towered over Phos by a good few feet, its plates and spikes roughened and yellowed by its long years.

With a bellow it swung at Phos, who, in a movement Jaune couldn't catch, seemed to disappear from the path of the beast's attack and reappear behind its back, Ignited Ashes in motion to hamstring the Grimm. What followed was a blinding exchange, if it could even be rightly called that, as though the Elder levied many blows at its smaller opponent, none even managed to scratch him. Eventually, having worn the beast down by slash after slash, Phos interrupted a swing from it with a burst of shrapnel to the face, causing it to reel back in shock. Phos then dropped his axe and dashed forwards, embedding his arm elbow deep in the elder's abdomen, before pulling out back with a wet ripping sound that drew a bestial pained scream from the monster. The stream of Grimm faux-organs and black viscera that sprayed out of the gaping hole was likely already enough damage for the Grimm to fall, but the foot long section of spine in Phos’ hand made it a certainty. And with a mighty crash, the elder keeled over onto its side, dead.

The return trip to Ebontark was quick, the circuitous route they had taken to find the nest was far longer than the path they walked back. Once there, Jaune wanted to go straight to bed, but Phos steered him to the small association building and rang a bell to alert the receptionist.

“Just checking in to report completion of...”

Phos checked his scroll.

“Mission E-V/B/EBN-432-SD. Should be registered under Jaune Arc under the mentor system with Phos Argentum.”

After a few clicks on the desk mounted scroll the receptionist had brought up the job.

“That checks out. Proof of completion?”

Phos handed over his scroll with the pictures he’d taken.

“I counted one Elder, three Alphas and eighty three regular Beowolves.”

“Ok. Please note that if evidence of the nest only being partially cleared comes to light your reward will be docked accordingly.”

Phos nodded.

“We will be in the area for a while longer, so if that Congress to pass, tell us and we'll go out again.”

“Speaking of reward, we need to agree on how much you charge achieved.”

“The picture with him in the middle are the ones he took out, they were controlled so he didn't fight many at a time though, just so his skills don't get overestimated.”

“That's... About a third? That fine with you?”

Phos waved his hand.

“Yeah that's fine.”

“It was a one day E rank combat mission... So that's 15000 Lien. Giving 1/3 to Mr Arc... What account should that go to?”

“Jaune doesn't have a separate account, just send it to his association account.”

“Fine... And 10000 to Mr Argentum. That's you done. Please continue your good work in the future.”

Jaune had never had that much money before! That was... Well it was a good meal at least. As the pair began their walk back to the inn, Jaune piped up.

“Phos? What did you mean by association account?”

“Though many Huntsmen have bank accounts in other places, every person registered with the association is automatically given an account. The good thing about the Association’s accounts though, is that the association makes no money off of it, your cash kept with them is not touched by the association at all. There’s no risk of losing your money like you can sometimes if Grimm bankrupt a different bank – plus since the association is virtually everywhere, with even small villages tending to have some presence, you can access your account anywhere, while most banks only have a presence in cities and large towns.”

As the pair reached the inn, Jaune was already falling asleep, so Phos carried him upstairs. He would be going right back to the grindstone tomorrow after all.

**\--------------- Hunter Files --------------**

_Grimm – Basics, and the Alpha & Elder Phenomena_

The simplest physical definition of Grimm is a soulless monster bent on the destruction of humanity. Almost always identifiable by black skin, feathers and hair, white bone-like plating and red markings, Grimm are generally easy to recognise. There are cases however where these colours can change, for example some Grimm disguise themselves with green vegetation, and some can actually change colour.

Grimm possess a strange facsimile of internal organs, these seem to hold no actual function, bar their aesthetic similarity to those of normal animals. All of their flesh seems to be composed of a uniform black substance which sublimates to a black vapour unless preserved quickly, this substance is not identical between Grimm and body parts, as those who choose to consume this substance would tell you. The plating of the Grimm – while similar in appearance and properties to bone, bears none of the internal structure and disintegrates to a fine dust upon death.

Grimm come in many different forms which are generally regarded as native to different areas. Unlike normal animals however, the habitats of Grimm are not to do with where they evolved, but rather environmental conditions – Grimm found in the deserts of Vacuo likely won’t be found in the forests of Vale or snowfields of atlas, but will probably be found in the deserts of Mistral, Menagerie and Vale. It must also be noted, that Grimm do seem to possess some differences between regions, even though at their core they are the same.

Before any specific Grimm are addressed, first two events known as the ‘Alpha Phenomenon’ and the ‘Elder Phenomenon’ must be understood. Both of these events constitute a Grimm undergoing some form of metamorphosis.

The Alpha Phenomenon occurs when a Grimm takes command of a Grimm Pack, but has been observed to take anything from a few minutes, to a few months to take effect. This Phenomenon leads to the creation of Alpha Grimm, generally smarter, larger and stronger than their brethren. Each Grimm has a different name for its alpha variant which does often lead to confusion. Note that not every Grimm type has been observed to have an Alpha variant, solitary Grimm and certain unusual types lack such a form. Examples of Alpha variants include the Alpha Beowolf (from whence the term was coined), the Ursa Major, the Boardil Marshal and the High Creep. Should the Alpha lose its position, the metamorphosis does not reverse, sometimes leading to many Alphas in a pack, but with only one being in charge.

The Elder Phenomenon on the other hand occurs when a Grimm attains an unusual age for its type. All Grimm gain more plating, strength and intelligence as they age, but once they reach a certain point they become what is known as an Elder Grimm. Elder Grimm are large, often highly intelligent and all around far more dangerous than their younger counterparts. The Elder Phenomenon is believed to be universal across all Grimm types, and no matter the type, Elder supplants any Alpha name.

It is common for an Elder in a pack to take the Alpha slot, and it is not uncommon for Grimm to undergo both phenomena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, first real mission, and it was too much for Jaune. Note that I tend to assume Lien works like most non-European, non-American currencies. So 1 lien is comparable to 1 pence, or 1 cent. Thus the total reward of 15000 is about £150
> 
> Again, the little shameless plug. I have been working on a different RWBY related project, which (when in a releasable state) will be published on the YouTube channel 'Combat Ready Studios', current home of the RWBY spinoff EDWS (Edelweiss). So, if my stories have in any way interested you, I really request you check that out. We also have a Discord at "https://discord.gg/hQYwAd6"  
> Just note that my stories on here have nothing really to do with what goes on in there. We now have all the models needed for the first trailer so that's good.
> 
> Current ranks in the poll:  
> Weapon:  
> • The Burial Blade - 12  
> • The Rakuyo - 8
> 
> Voters for the poll:  
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Lagzal, Cegorach, Niho, N1njapanda15, Rogue_eL, REGIKING, Axccel, Ya Boy, MindsandMirrors, Sir_Wobblefish, Twinfire, xXkapow1227Xx, Icarus720, darkravenight, DRahven, Sansman, Dealek.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


	12. Ebontark 2: Creeping Through the Dust

After the attack on the Beowolf nest, the manual simplicity of the house construction and the guard duty seemed extremely tame. His rounds with Sable on the walls had gone from relaxing to mind numbingly boring. You'd think defending a town from the tides of darkness would at least be eventful, but in the two and a half weeks he had been walking the walls the had been a grand total of five incidents, including the one on his first day. Across all those incidents there had been seven Grimm, none of which he had actually fought.

On the plus side, Sable had explained the basics of firearm use, at least insofar as the aiming and firing of a rifle and a pistol. Jaune wasn’t a crackshot, lack of experience showing through, but he wasn't abysmal, and Shale assured him that there were people in the guard who had started off far worse than him.

Jaune had enjoyed the house building while it lasted. At the close of the second week they had got to the fiddly processes of wiring and plumbing up the house, a set of tasks they didn't want a bunch of rogues who couldn't tell a fuse from a pressure valve messing with. Given the house was a two week long non combat mission, he was paid 45,000 lien for each day, for a total of 450,000. Phos took this time to point out the difference in rewards for combat and non combat jobs.

Every non combat job, regardless of skill level, was considered G class. This meant that while in G and often F rank the non combat jobs tended to pay more than the combat jobs, in the higher ranks the combat rewards quickly outstripped the non combat rewards. Take the earlier E rank mission they had taken, that was 150,000 for a day’s work, rather than 45,000, and honestly Phos could probably have taken three of those missions in a day.

The biggest excitement he had had was dealing with that pair of Ursai, this time Phos merely followed along on the mission, leading Jaune to attempt it solo. Jaune managed to follow the Grimms’ trail to an abandoned farm a few miles out. Based on the tree growth and crumbling building the farm had been unoccupied for at least the better part of a century. Or, to rephrase, unoccupied by humans. The Ursai were none too pleased about a small human intruding on their domain.

Jaune’s speed helped immensely during the fight, but it still took ages. Negotiating the pair’s surprisingly coordinated offensive was hard enough, but the comparative size of Jaune’s weapons meant it was like trying to take down a rhino with a penknife. Jaune’s victory actually came when he managed to unbalance one of the pair downstairs into some form of equipment storage. The bear landed on a pile of razor sharp twisted metal scraps and spikes, more rust than anything else, which had probably at some point been a piece of farm machinery.

With the death of one Grimm to the perils of farm life, the other was far more manageable, the size of his weapon mattered less when it was embedded to the hilt in an eye socket.

However, that incident with the Ursai was almost a week ago now, and with his guard duty coming to a close in a day or so, it was time to deal with the last mission. The F rank about clearing the creeps from a mining outpost.

Beryl Dark was a small group of buildings a few miles out of town. It was dilapidated and rusting, but all the buildings appeared to be standing. The place had never been a truly operational mine, prospecting signals half a decade earlier had indicated Dust in the region, but when Beryl Dark was set up to probe a promising new vein, it had only taken a few months to discover the extent of the resource was a scant few crystals. Dust detecting probes were notoriously unreliable, prone to flashing false positives for anything from a few nearby Dust rounds, to an overabundance of copper in the soil. Once the decision was taken to abandon the site, the buildings were merely boarded up and left to rot. The Grimm had likely chosen to settle there due to the feelings of disappointment imbued in the failed settlement.

“Remember Jaune, Creeps are burrowers, stay on your guard. I'm expecting somewhere in the region of thirty, maybe more if there's multiple high creeps around.”

Despite this being an F rank mission, Phos wanted Jaune to do this as solo as possible. Creeps were generally easy to fight, their lack of forelimbs was debilitating enough, but their almost total blindness made them pretty much the least dangerous of the common Grimm types. Honestly if they were the other type of class 1 Grimm, Beowolves, Phos could see this mission possibly popping into E tier, maybe. Just to make sure, Phos followed Jaune, but hoped he'd be fine alone.

Jaune's preliminary actions were good, he memorized the old map of the area, noting regions of interest. Namely, the three mineshafts and the warehouse. The two bunkrooms and the Foreman’s office were good to check out, but the tight corridors made them less likely to hold many Grimm.

As Jaune expected, the first bunkhouse was empty. However, as he passed through the door into the second, he heard a dry ruffling and a wet grunt. He passed as quietly as he could across the rotting floor of the corridor, to find a single Grimm the one of the rooms. As he saw it, it paused and raised its head. Quickly, before it could sound an alarm, it receive a blade to the unarmoured throat.

The Foreman's Office held just as little of import. Plenty of time-worn ledgers, but no Grimm, and no sign of burrowing. It was the warehouse he was worried about, a large space, shielded from the rain? This could well be the main nest. It was more likely to be in the mines, but better safe than sorry.

As Jaune shifted the old access door, dry scrapings of flaking rust echoing more than he would like, he could see darkness through the doorway.

Two creeps prowled the small room on the other side, an antechamber designed to prevent personnel bringing in anything that could aggravate the volatile Dust the warehouse was supposed to contain. The two immediately noticed the new airflow and he could tell they were preparing to sound the alarm. Jaune dashed forward, one Grimm aborted its call to try and stop him, but Jaune leapt over the blind lunge and rammed one of the Blades through the other Grimm’s lower jaw, pinning its mouth shut.

Jaune left the silenced Grimm to deal with the one that could still make sound, he dodged the outstretched feet from a leap, bringing the blade across the throat as he did so. As the beast fell to the ground he leapt for its silent brother, landing on its back. His hand grabbed the hilt below and with a yank he bared the Grimm's throat for a quick cut, sending a spray across the room.

Unfortunately, as Jaune peered through the inner door into the warehouse proper, that had been the easy part. The large room was filled with tall shelving units stretching to the roof off in the gloom. Several rows of shelving had collapsed over the years, and some off to the side appeared to have fallen over domino style.

Between the shelves a not inconsiderable mob of creeps was prowling. Jaune counted at least ten, but given they kept passing out of sight between shelves he probably missed many. The thin looking plating showed that these were young and, relatively, weak... Meaning this was almost certainly where the members of the pack that were low on the totem pole were left, while the stronger members eked out territory elsewhere, likely in the mines.

One thing was clear, Jaune couldn't take out that many creeps head on. He would have to find another solution. The warehouse was rather bare, the shelves were all pretty much empty, so there was nothing there to help... Or was there? With a stroke of inspiration Jaune quickly darted to the nearest set of shelves and began to climb. It was a bit of a stupid idea, these shelves could collapse like the others at any moment, but if it works it would be extremely useful.

Once he was high enough, Jaune began to move along the shelves, looking for creeps that had gone off on their own. Eventually he found one, it was snuffling around at an old cardboard box, and seemed not to even notice him. Looking around momentarily to check the coast was clear, Jaune jumped from the shelves. It was only about 3 metres down, a jump Jaune could easily make. The creep barely managed to make a grunt of surprise at the eleven year old smashing into its spine before one of the Blades silenced it. Jaune quickly scrambled back to the shelves.

In a similar fashion Jaune managed to take out five more, but then ran into a problem. His kill count was at nine, but it seems there were more in this warehouse than he thought. There were eight creeps all sat in the same shelving corridor, doing not that much. They were too close for him to take them out individually, and too numerous to take them together.

Jaune had an idea... But it may not be particularly sensible. Creeps had decent hearing, it wasn't extremely good, but it was good enough that they could somewhat navigate with it. Which meant that this was a stupid idea. Looking around the environment of dusty, half collapsed shelves, he could only hope the Grimm in the mines were used to the sound and anyway, he was running out of time, it looked like the creeps were beginning to detect his emotions through the ambient negativity of the outpost. Several were moving their heads as if searching for something, clearly agitated, thank Dust for their blindness.

Crossing all his fingers, Jaune climbed to the top of one of the sets of shelves beside the Grimm, and began to sway backwards and forwards. The old shelving creaked under the motion, until with a grinding cry of shearing bolts and rusted metal, the entire shelving unit toppled towards the Grimm.

Jaune dived into a roll to clear the falling shelves, his palms and back scraped uncomfortably on the concrete floor and his arms jarred unpleasantly, but judging by the state of most of the Grimm, he got off lucky.

Five of the Grimm were dead, two crushed and three impaled by twisted metal, one more was pinned beneath the wreckage, its leg pinned to the ground. The final two had escaped the wreckage, one reacted fast enough to avoid the shelves entirely, while the other had a bad limp. Jaune was now on borrowed time, he couldn't be sure that the Grimm in the mines hadn't heard the loud crash of the shelves.

With only one combatant in good condition, it didn't take long to deal with the remaining Grimm. Slitting a creep's throat still seemed like the easiest and least-messy method, and it only took two attacks to take down the two that were free. It was ironically harder to take out the trapped individual – it flailed and snapped around, and with it in the pile of metal it was hard to reach. Jaune eventually managed to get to its throat by throwing one of the Blades, but it took an aggravating number of tries.

Now with the warehouse neutralised, there only remained the three mineshafts. At least, in the best scenario. Given that creeps were burrowers, there was a distinct possibility that the caves had been expanded on.

“You're doing well so far. Unorthodox approach, but effective.”

Jaune turned to Phos, who had been hiding in the shadows.

“I just hope the noise won't cause problems."

Phos tilted his head.

“Maybe, but I don't hear anything reacting. Remember I am here if things get bad.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Jaune left the warehouse, the mineshafts were not exactly what Jaune expected. To Jaune, a mine meant a rocky tunnel supported by beams of wood and lit by flickering Dust lamps. In reality, Beryl Dark had mines that were slightly more modern, they had been dug primarily by automated borers, large machines that left circular shafts in their wake. These shafts were braced by rings of steel and had once possessed normal Dust lamps. The hand carved tunnels didn't start for hundreds of metres, only beginning when prospecting signals indicated high payloads. Unfortunately, years of abandonment had screwed the lighting, but as creeps were blind, using a light source was actually viable. Jaune crept slowly down shaft one, torch in hand. The tunnel leveled out about ten minutes in, Phos was silently grateful that this wasn’t a deep mine, those often started with multiple-minute long elevator rides into the abyss, a few reaching over two kilometres down. Eventually some manual tunnels branched off. There were a few creeps in little chambers a hundred metres or so off the path, but that was about it. Honestly shaft one was a disappointment, the warehouse had been harder.

It was shaft two when things began to look off. Plans indicated that this shaft had only been dug two hundred ish metres down, with hand carved tunnels only going fifty or so metres. It appeared that the network had been expanded somewhat. If about half a cubic kilometre of space full of branching paths, varying between a metre in diameter to almost twenty could be counted as 'somewhat’.

Jaune's exploration of the new paths revealed many creeps, more than Phos had expected. Every hundred metres or so the tunnels entered into large chambers, each with a few Grimm in the middle, frankly the place felt like a giant ant nest, but at least the Grimm had conveniently portioned themselves into groups that he could deal with. Though, fighting one handed as he needed the torch was being a bit awkward.

“This... *Pant* This is bloody ridiculous.”

Phos frowned.

“There are more than I hoped for, yes. You are dealing with it well however.”

Jaune walked over to a creep slumped against the wall and yanked a blade from its chest. Phos took a quick photo of the cavern on his scroll as evidence, trying to catch all four of the Grimm in the cave.

“I wonder why none of these larger groups have sounded the alarm while I've been fighting.”

Phos tilted his head, confused.

“Yes, that is unusual. I was ready to step in earlier when I expected them to call... Unless...”

Phos walked over to the cavern wall and began to pry at the rock with his blades of mercy. Slivers of rock slowly flaked off the wall until Phos gave a short gasp.

“By the blood...”

“What is it?”

Phos backed away from the rock to reveal semi-transparent red stone faintly glowing in the dark of the cavern. Its mildly see through nature allowed Jaune to see that the crystal appeared to extend into the wall for several metres.

“No... No...”

Phos, worried, strode to the other wall and chipped away at it. Another red crystal was eventually revealed. Phos took a breath to ground himself.

“It seems that this mine is not as depleted as we were led to believe.”

“I can see that.”

Phos nervously paced back and forth.

“This mission has just become rather more dangerous. It explains why they haven't raised the alarm though, sounds of that magnitude and pitch would just set off the Dust.”

Jaune looked warily at the wall.

“What does this change?”

“The simple things? Nothing. The mission is still to go through the mines and wipe out the Grimm. However, be very careful with the cave walls... And the ceiling... And the floor... We do not want to set off a chain reaction in here.”

Jaune began gingerly walking along the next tunnel.

“How much more?”

“At a guess? Four to six more chambers, then whatever has happened to shaft three. And the alpha, wherever that is.”

Given the increased risk of explosive death, Jaune’s progression through the tunnels proceeded rather more gingerly from then on. The next chamber was empty, as was the one after that, but the third was rather large and contained six creeps. These last few chambers were the deepest of the system, and appeared to be partially natural, as the Dust was now appearing far more obviously, spires growing from the cavern walls. This far down the lingering negativity of the mine buildings was less pervasive, and the creeps sensed him pretty much immediately. One of them fell quickly to a throat cut, and another received a deep slice to the thigh, but with this many, Jaune’s focus was on evasion. One managed to nick his leg with a claw as Jaune dodged, drawing a pained hiss, but little more as Jaune had to bring his knife to bear killing another. Four left.

Grimm blood was an odd substance, the pungent black liquid was tacky and viscous like normal blood, and had a distinct variation on the expected odor, with the addition of the unmistakable smell of burned treacle. The black liquid would seep into clothing and cake into skin, but much like Grimm corpses, it dissolves away in time without preservation, leaving no sign of itself but a faint whiff of burnt sugar.

Jaune's clothes, which were fairly dark anyway, were slick and black, as though a rain shower of oil had soaked his leather jacket. Rivulets of thick dripping goo would leak from the corners of his hat when his head tilted, and there was a faintly nauseating stickiness at every motion.

Another creep fell, knife up to the hilt into its lower jaw, right into the brain. Jaune's footing was unsteady due to blood and dust but he just about held it. At some point, he wasn't sure when, he had gained a gash above his left eye, which was causing him some vision problems. The last two decided to come at him together, but Jaune was able to leap the lumbering creatures easily. One fell before it could relocate him, and the other was little threat alone.

Panting, Jaune accepted a handkerchief from Phos to clean away the blood from around his eye, before adding a temporary bandage to keep it from bleeding in his eye anymore. In the process, Jaune’s hands ran through the slick mass that his hair was in right now, drawing a laborious sign from him.

“Well. Not much longer here.”

Jaune was right. After one more, empty, chamber, they seemed to have explored the full area. Phos had been mapping out the chambers on his scroll, and there were no tunnels, at least that they'd seen, that they hadn’t gone down.

Jaune squinted upon the return to the surface, the sun was beginning to get low in the sky, but it was still bright enough after the mine to be disorientating.

“Come on, one more. You've just got to deal with the Alpha and take out any stragglers, then we can go back to Ebontark.”

With a sigh Jaune began the trek down into shaft three, this was the shallowest cave on paper, barely 100 metres deep and abandoned before any proper mining was attempted. The plans showed it as merely a boring length of cylindrical tunnel, but it soon became obvious that, much like shaft two, it had been modified by its new occupants. This shaft however did not branch, and merely slanted into the gloom. The tunnel was large and rough-hewn, after a hundred or so extra metres the evidence of Dust was undeniable, with chunks in every wall.

The tunnel ended in a large chamber, at the center of which lay what Jaune could only assume was the alpha. It was a large mound of black fur and white plate that completely dwarfed him. The plate was yellowed, cracked and pitted, evidence of a long life of abuse, while the black fur was thick, oily and matted with gods know what. Jaune would probably barely reach over its knee if it was stood up.

Phos whispered an exasperated “Drat.” In the background.

“That's an Elder. Yeah, this is far beyond an F rank. Definitely an E.”

Phos sighed.

“Sorry to interrupt your mission Jaune but... You are not ready to take this thing out. Even if there wasn't all this Dust scattered around.”

Phos seemed to think for a moment.

“Jaune, I'm going to give you a choice. You can try to take that thing on yourself, you probably won't win and you may be seriously hurt. I'll step in if things go badly but I can't guarantee I'll be in time. Your other choice is to let me kill it and you can try and learn from watching. I don't exactly feel comfortable letting you try, but I can't just keep you away from danger.”

Jaune thought for quite a while. He was certain that he wouldn't be able to take it out normally, for one thing, the Blades were probably too small to really hurt it, but the Dust around the cavern had given him an idea.

“... I'll give it a shot. I have a plan at least.”

With a reluctant nod from Phos, Jaune snuck forward into the cavern. With Phos and the Dust lighting the cavern for him, he could use both hands to gingerly pry several large Dust crystals from the floor, most of the Dust here seemed to be Burn, and it had grown into lumps the size of his head.

With a crystal in hand Jaune approached the sleeping beast, it began to stir as he approached, but didn't actually rise until Jaune thrust the crystal into a chink in the beast’s armour. The plating was old and worn, and in many places was almost peeling off the flesh, leaving strange pockets filled with thin tender skin. The creep roared with pain and twirled to find its tormentor, but Jaune had slid away, the Grimm's own roaring hiding the sound of his escape.

Jaune retrieved another crystal, and with a running leap, jumped and grabbed the armour at the top of its thigh. Before the armless beast could attempt to throw him off, Jaune jammed the crystal into another pocket in the creature’s back.

The creep was unfortunate that its roaring and flailing in pain obscured two of its methods of locating its prey, and the location of its nest disrupted another. There was no way that Jaune’s careful sneaking could be heard over the bellows, and the pungent Dust smell overpowered its nose. Most convenient of all, Jaune’s continued, and very obvious, success bolstered him enough that the mild effect of ambient negativity from the settlement was enough to cover what little worry he was still exuding. The beast was essentially trying to swat a wasp while blind.

Phos had quickly grasped Jaune’s plan, and was frankly rather scared himself. An increasingly large amount of Dust was being packed in the beast's hide and Phos was franticly trying to sign to Jaune to stop. Eventually Jaune did, not because of Phos’ signs, but because he was struggling to find more pockets.

Picking up a final chunk, Jaune smacked it with the pommel of his dagger, producing a high-pitched ring as the Dust’s glow began to intensify. Jaune chucked the Dust in the creep’s general direction, and legged it.

Jaune didn't make it very far before Phos threw him over his shoulder amidst a storm of expletives and barreled out of the cave. Phos emerged into the light as a muffled ‘Whomph’ shot out the tunnel with a blast of hot air. He dived to the side behind a boulder moments before a stream of fire emerged from the mine. A distance away the ground cracked and buckled, as the forces below ground tried their best to punch through metres of solid rock.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF ABETHOL WERE YOU THINKING!”

Jaune looked over the boulder at the smoking mine entrance before sheepishly looking back to Phos.

“It worked didn't it?”

“Oh for... Ok, we need to teach you about Dust, because I do not want to have to deal with that again. You’re lucky you didn't blow the whole area to a crater with that stunt.”

“...Ah.”

Jaune hadn’t really thought of that.

Phos sighed.

“Nevertheless, you did succeed in clearing the mission I suppose. Good thing a snapped a picture of the elder before you vaporised it though.”

The sun was beginning to get low now, but they could still make it back to Ebontark before nightfall.

“Hey! Calling in completion of... Mission F-V/B/EBN-549-SC. Should be registered under Jaune Arc under the mentor system with Phos Argentum.”

“Found it. Proof of completion?”

Phos chucked his scroll over to the receptionist.

“That should not have been an F rank. Sixty one basic creeps and an Elder High Creep.”

The receptionist flicked through the images, going more and more green, she finally saw the elder and let out a low gasp.

“Parents preserve us...”

She shook her head.

“No that should not have been F rank. We were expecting forty at most, including any Highs, that... That is definitely E rank. I'll apply for a retrospective rank increase if you’re willing to let me copy the information.”

Phos waved his hand.

“Go ahead.”

The receptionist plugged in the scroll and began to clack away on the keyboard.

“So, roughly how many did your apprentice take out? I still have to note that down, whether it gets put up or not.”

“All of them.”

The receptionist blinked, uncomprehendingly.

“What?”

“He took out all of them. It took most of the day and we spent a lot of time resting, but he took them all out himself, even the Elder.”

Phos then turned his attention to Jaune.

“But if he ever tries to take out a Grimm that way again I will beat him black and blue.”

“Oh... I see... Then... 120000 lien into Jaune Arc’s account. If it gets upgraded to E rank the 60000 lien difference will be automatically added to your account.”

“Thanks.”

Phos turned to leave before smacking his forehead.

“Oh yeah, you may want to contact the SDC or whoever set up Beryl Dark. Turns out that mine wasn’t as much a dud as everyone thought. The creep tunnels go through quite a damn lot of the stuff, was absolutely terrifying when we found out.”

The receptionist’s face blanked again.

“Oh... I see... Um... Well, the SDC may get in contact with you depending on what they find. Oh! That reminds me, before I forget, Mr Argentum? You got a request.”

Phos shook his head.

“I'm not taking requests right now, training Jaune is more important.”

“It's a personal B rank request from Mr Schnee.”

“Ah. That changes things.”

Phos looked at the proffered terminal.

“Oh Dust, I’m going to have to go to Atlas again. At least it's fairly basic. Phos quickly typed out a response.

‘Mr J Schnee

I accept your request Mr Schnee. However, Please be aware that I have a young apprentice who will have to travel with me, so please make preparations for him as well. Though I daresay he can hold his own, I would not want him on the frontline as he is only properly participating in E rank and below missions at present. Other than that, I assume like any normal personal request you will arrange transport. For conformation I am currently residing in a small town called Ebontark in the King Brandon's Claim region of Vale.

Wishes,

P Argentum’

**\--------------- Hunter Files --------------**

_Association Guidebook - Mission Designations_

Every Rogues Association mission is given a code to identify it within the system. E.g.

E-V/B/EBN-432-SD

These codes consist of four regions separated by dashes:

1\. The rank of the mission, this is the standard G to A system of the Association, with the addition of H for Huntsman specific.

2\. The location, this is a three part region as it designates the Kingdom, Province and Settlement/Branch that lodged the mission. The kingdom codes are merely the first letter of their name, with the exception of Vacuo, which uses an O due to Vale claiming the V designation, and Menagerie, which uses an F. The provinces codes can be more random, but mostly just use the first letter again. The third party designates the Association branch that the mission was lodged with, which is not necessarily the mission location. Each branch has a unique code, most of which are an abbreviation of the town name.

3\. A numerical identifier for the mission, these numbers are only for that location and that type of mission. i.e. each branch has a separate mission 1 logged under search and destroy.

4\. The type of mission, there are multiple codes for this, ranging from the basic SD, for Search and Destroy, or SC for Settlement Clear, to the more esoteric IIFN, for Investigation Into Formic Nesting. Different types of mission have different pay bands.

Outside of this missions can sometimes have a fifth section to the code, a -P is sometimes added to the end, to note that the mission is to be assigned only to individuals personally requested by the lodger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! And it's late!
> 
> Again!
> 
> Anyway, we've finally finished the 3 chapter mini-arc that was supposed to be chapter one of the first main storyline.
> 
> Yay
> 
> I am totally smrt.  
> I can totally pln.
> 
> Eh, I'm gonna throw the little shameless plug at you again. I have been working on a different RWBY related project, which (when in a releasable state) will be published on the YouTube channel 'Combat Ready Studios', current home of the RWBY spinoff EDWS (Edelweiss). So, if my stories have in any way interested you, I really request you check that out. We also have a Discord at "https://discord.gg/hQYwAd6"  
> Just note that my stories on here have nothing really to do with what goes on in there. The first trailer is being animated and I'm working on the models for the second.
> 
> Current ranks in the poll:  
> Weapon:  
> • The Burial Blade - 12  
> • The Rakuyo - 10
> 
> Voters for the poll:  
> KnightGalavant, Tango Mike, Porsvasse, DevoidofNothing, BansheeBones, Xealchim#26, Lagzal, Cegorach, Niho, N1njapanda15, Rogue_eL, REGIKING, Axccel, Ya Boy, MindsandMirrors, Sir_Wobblefish, Twinfire, xXkapow1227Xx, Icarus720, darkravenight, DRahven, Sansman, Dealek, Bland username, Teaktree88.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, Kudos and comments are always appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a secondary fic right now. My focus is on 'To Find Untroubled Waters' but I need something else to refresh my interest every now and then.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated


End file.
